Endings
by intotheblue101
Summary: After hitting rock bottom, Katniss didn't bother to go anywhere else. Then the moment Peeta Mellark steps into her life, everything changes. Slowly, Peeta brings Katniss back to life. Out of the lifestyle she found a sort of refuge in, Peeta helps Katniss back to her normal. Yet finding a new ending doesn't come without the least bit of difficulties. Modern day.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I

…

My father always told me that change was a complicated thing, but then again if it was easy then everyone would change. He said that it was a choice made by those who were strong, who had courage, who wanted to better themselves.

Change was something willed by the soul.

He always told me that when attempting to change who you were, you could not go back into the past and start all over from the beginning. The only thing you could do was wake up in the morning, look back at who you were and start like it was the beginning.

You were to learn from your past and have something which you could hold onto, to motivate you to make a new ending to your story. And just when thought I would never change, Peeta Mellark came along and caused me to create a new ending to my story.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

…

Feeling his tongue run across my bottom lip I gasp, opening my mouth, allowing him entrance. And the moment I part my lips, his tongue darts into my mouth dancing with mine, fighting for dominance. I fight him for only for a moment before surrendering. That moment I surrender, I give him all control. So gripping my hips he pulls me close. Then as his tongue does god-knows-what I let out a moan.

And as what started out as a simple kisses becomes more heated than I expected it to be, I feel his hands grip my waist at the loophole of my jeans pushing me up against the wall. Again I let out another moan. The kiss I had only expected to lead to a make-out session was heading somewhere else. As the kissing becomes more fierce, I move my hands from around his neck up to his hair, running my hands through his hair, pulling at the end tips along his neck.

Then feeling him press against me, I can feel the bulge in his pants. Grinding himself against me, I let out another moan. _Oh shit_, I think, _we are not doing this is the janitor's closet_. And just as he dips his hands into the sides of my jeans so his fingers were digging into my skin I pull away. Breathing in, I shake my head knowing Cato was staring at me wondering what was going on.

"No," I breathe out, "I'm not that kinky. I am not fucking you in the janitor's closet. I do have some sort of standards."

He laughs, loosening his grip on my hips. "Oh, but at the Slag Heap is perfectly fine."

I laugh too. Then sarcastically say, "Yeah, 'cause that's just classy."

Then pulling away from him I fix my v-neck making sure I'm covered before picking my messenger bag up off the ground. Once ready, I turn to look at Cato. Backpack slung over his shoulder. Shirt on and in place. Crouch slightly, noticeably bulged. Hair ruffled and messed. He's good.

Giving him a smile, I reach back and open the door. "I'll see you around, maybe next time we can take care of that." I say pointing toward his crouch just as I slip out of the closet and into the hall.

…

The moment the bell rings I am up out of my seat and through the classroom door and into the hall. I clutch my five-ring notebook close to my side as I maneuver my way through the halls. Weaving in and out of people while making a few left and right turns I finally reach my locker. Giving it a kick, I twist the nob to the left and then quickly to the right causing the door to pop open.

As I toss my notebook into the locker I hear the locker beside me click open. Peeta Mellark.

Peeta Mellark, the baker's son. I didn't know him well. He was in most of my classes except for AP Mechanics. He had blue eyes, blonde hair, and broad shoulders like all the Mellark boys. He was on wrestling team, too I think. And that was about it. I knew his brother a little, Rye Mellark; we fooled around a few times.

Keeping to myself, I begin to count the seconds in my head waiting for Peeta politely hello to me as he always did. _One… two… three… fo-_

"Hey Katniss," he says with a smile as he switches his books from his backpack he doesn't need into this locker.

I nod my head, but don't say anything. Then reaching for my black, marble notebook on the top shelf of my locker, I hear something slam into the left of the locker. And looking up I see Gale looking pissed as usual.

"_Katniss_." Hey says using my real name, telling if I already didn't know that he was pissed with me about something.

"Gale."

"What were you doing with Cato?"

I smirk to myself. So Cato as I had expected did kiss and tell today in the locker room before PE what he and I were doing in the janitor's closet during second period. "None of your business, Gale."

"It is my business," he says stepping closer to me so that my back was pressed against my open locker and his chest was inches from mine, "_You _are my business."

And the moment those words leave his mouth I allow myself to lose it for just a moment.

"You are _not_ my keeper, Gale," I say pushing my hand against his chest, "You have _no_ power over me or my life. I am my own person. Get that through your thick skull. I am _not_ your business. You are _not_ my father. You are _not_ my mother. You have _no_ control, no right."

"Katniss-"

But I don't allow him to continue. "Fuck off, Gale."

"Catnip-"

I give him a look telling him that if he doesn't step down and back off now and just walk away there will be a scene. And at the moment there were already a few sets of eyes watching us. I especially felt Peeta Mellark's burning into the back of my skull.

Nevertheless, shaking his head, he took a step back. Then looking to me, he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but quickly shut it. Shaking his head again he turned and made his way down the hall. It wasn't till he was no longer in sight that I turned my attention back to my locker.

Grabbing my black, marble notebook off the top shelf I scanned the rest of my locker making sure I had everything I needed. AP Biology, check. AP English & Composition, check. AP Calculus, check. AP European History, check. AP Psychology, check. AP Mechanics, check. Once confirmed in my mind that I have all the books I need, I slip my notebook into my bag before shutting my locker.

And just as I shut my locker, so does Peeta.

"Bye Katniss," he says as he turning down the hall with his bag slung over his shoulder.

…

Leaning against the counter I scribble in my black, marble notebook. Then I pause to look at what I had written. I internally nod in approval. And as I slip the notebook back into my bag below the counter I hear Sae call through the service door.

"Hey, girl. I got to get Jessie. Thom's here in the back. You got some kids in section three and the baker should be here soon with an order of the usual."

Nodding my head, Sae makes her way through the door and I around the counter section three. Then as I turn the corner in a booth I see Cato with Glimmer, Marvel and Clove. And as I approach their booth I savage my notepad from the front pocket of my apron.

"What can I get you," I say in a monotone manner standing in from of the booth.

"Cheeseburger and fries," says Cato, "Coke, too."

"Same," Marvel agrees.

"Grilled chicken sandwich," Clove says.

And then as I turn my attention to Glimmer I can't help, but take in a deep breathe trying to calm myself for the upcoming conversation I will have for her no longer a few seconds. _Don't lose it with her Katniss_, I tell myself, _she's just a pitiful blond bimbo who intelligence level is lower than a rock._

"Um…" She says dragging it out. "Do you have anything that is zero calories?"

_Oh God. This girl._

"Water." I say.

"Excuse me," she says, dramatically shutting her menu as I have insulted her.

"You asked for something with zero calories," I say, "The only think here you'll find here that's zero calories is water."

Cato and Marvel let out a snort causing them to both receive a death glare from Glimmer while Clove just shakes her head smirking.

"Ah, fine," she says, "Get me a salad, no dressing, no curtains, no carrots or any of that shit."

"Lettuce on a plate," I remark to which I receive a death glare myself. And so taking Glimmer's glare as a yes, I copy down their orders and collect their menus before making my way back to the kitchen.

Back around the counter, I tear the small sheet of note paper and clip it to the upper part of the service window. Then I tap the bell twice telling Thom that there is an order waiting on him to be filled. And then as I turn back around, there is an elderly couple, the Burgesses, standing at the register waiting to pay their bill and the front door swinging open revealing Peeta Mellark.

Watching as he stepped toward the counter I gave him a smirk, kind of. "I'll be right with you."

He nodded taking a seat at the counter. "No problem."

So quickly walking over to the counter I give Mr. and Mrs. Burgess a smile. Ringing up their usual order of $20.92, they make small talk with me. They do most of the talking, telling about their new grandchild and how their other grandchild is now in middle school. I give them a polite smile and they tip me a five. After talking with them a little longer, they grow tiresome saying they must go.

"Sorry," I mumble returning to behind the counter.

"It's no problem," he smiled, "Plus it's the Burgess's so you can get mad with them. Cutest old couple you'll ever see."

Nodding my head I ask. "Did you already unpack it all?"

"Yeah, Thom let me in." He nodded. "It's all on the back counter."

"Um, do you mind if I go back and just count everything?"

He shook his head no. "Sure, go ahead."

"Be right back," I said pushing through the service door which led into the kitchen. And there as Peeta said sat Sae's bakery order on the back counter. Counting the bags of rolls and different loaves of bread and numerous different desserts everything was there as usual.

And just as I was about to walk out of the kitchen Thom called. "Order up."

Letting out a groan, I unwilling go retrieve Cato's and everyone's platters off the table where Thom had laid them out. Sliding two plates onto each arm, I carefully maneuver my way out of the kitchen and into the diner. And successfully making my way to the booth, I set each platter in front of the person who had order it. Then leaving without a word and without allowing any of them to say a word I basically sprint back to the counter.

"Sorry," I mumble to Peeta again.

He shakes his head. "It's fine."

And all I can do is nod. "So the usual price?"

He nods and I pull out the check of my apron I had taken from the cash register while ringing up the Burgesses and hand it to Peeta.

"Sorry." I mumble again.

"It's nothing, Katniss, really," he laughs.

Then standing up he brushed off his pants before folding up the check and slipping it into his right front pocket.

"Bye Katniss."

…

Turning around, away from the back door of the diner my eyes lay on Cato's SUV parked beside my Harley and Cato leaning against the car's hood. This boy. Stuffing the Hob's keys into my messenger bag, I walk down the steps toward Cato.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask sarcastically.

"We have some unfinished business to take care of."

"Is that so?"

He gave me a smile, pushing himself off the hood of the truck. Then taking a step forward, he grabbed me by the waist pulling me into him. Pressed up against one another, Cato's hands traveled down to cup my ass.

"Yeah," he said with a smile.

Smiling deviously, he leaned in, kissing me. And just like back in the janitor's closet earlier today the kiss goes innocent to anything but pretty quickly. Breathing heavily I look to Cato as he break away from one another.

"We are not doing this outside."

He laughed. "Is my truck to kinky for your style?"

I smiled. "It's a step up."

…

It's past midnight when I cross over the train tracks into the Seam making the immediate, sharp turn onto 12th Ave. After going at it twice, Cato and I called it a night. Basically Cato had to get home before midnight or Enobaria would flip shit on him and I well… I was good.

Pulling into my driveway, I release the clutch and taker my key out of the Harley's ignition before shifting off the motorcycle. Up and drive and to the step, I unlock the door and slip into the house.

Even after three months I still can't stand living in this house alone. Too many memories. Too many hauntings.

"Com'on Katniss," I saw aloud, "Get your shit together."

So taking a deep breath, I lock the door behind me before I climb the stairs to the second floor.

And it's not just the memories that haunt me. The fact that the house is huge bothers me. It was tall, but thin. It used to be the town's old firehouse back in the early nineteenth century when the Seam was an acknowledgeable part of the Valley District.

Reaching the second floor I walk into my room, setting my messenger bag of my bed before walking into the connected bathroom to turn on the bath. As the water runs, I strip down. Then I look at myself in the mirror.

I'm not the same girl anymore.

The thick, jagged scar from the cut I had made months ago is still engraved along my right wrist. I shake my head at the memory. That was before I began going to parties and drinking and sleeping around. That was when I kept everything inside and thought that there was no point. At least now I let things out… through sex and alcohol mostly, but still let things out.

My ribs are visible. I can count them. I probably have lost twenty pound in the last few months, but it didn't bother me. I was trying to kill myself, I wasn't starving myself, I just wasn't hungry.

And then there were the fading hickeys along my collar bone from last week him James and I had gotten drunk at Marvel's party following the football game.

Not bothering to stare at myself any further I step into the bath and quickly rinse off, getting rid of the days memories. I wash away the whispers in the halls and the watching eyes, I wash away Cato and Gale, I wash away my emotions and misfortunes.

In no time I out of the bath, dried and dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. I then lay down on my bed, making sure I set my alarm even though it'll do me no good. It'll only be a matter of hours after I fall asleep that I would wake up scream and covered in a thin layer of sweat as a result of the nightmares that invade my mind. The nightmares.

And so shutting my eyes I repeat the monologue I found myself accumulating in my mind about who I was to myself.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen. I live in the Seam. I go to school at Capitol Hill. I am top of my class, valedictorian I drink. I sleep around. I don't really care. Prim is dead. Dad is dead. Mom is gone. I don't what I'm doing or where I'm going. This is me, this is my life. _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

…

Tapping my pencil against the top of my notebook, I glance up to see Claudius still ranting on about the effects of serotonin and dopamine has on the human mind along with adrenaline and endorphins as he did the day before in front of the class. We get it, when you do something transmitters in your brain make you happy or numb or sad or whatever. Nearly losing my mind, I look up to the clock on the wall to see there is still five minutes left of AP Psychology.

I sit in silence. Internally groaning, I continue to tap my pencil against my notebook till the bell rings.

It's no more than a millisecond after the bell rings that I am standing up from my seat, slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder after stuffing my notebook inside. Walking to the door I feel someone trailing me. Even after making my way down the hall, I still feel someone trailing behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I see Peeta Mellark.

"Hey," he says coming up beside me, "We have lit. now right?"

I nod my head.

Peeta says no more and I don't say anything at all, like I usually try to do. I don't like talking really. There are only a few exceptions to that rule and even then, those exceptions are random:

Talk if called on to talk.

Talk if waitressing.

Talk if talking to those sarcastically or in a flirtatious manner.

So we don't talk and I am fine with that. We make it to class with a few moments before the bell rings. And as we take our seats, mine the last seat in the row beside the window and Peeta's to the right of mine, Cinna walks into the room.

"Good afternoon," he says bubbly as he set his bag down on his desk chair before turning to look at the class.

"Good afternoon," most of the class responded.

Me, I just sit there moving my pencil between my fingers.

Cinna, he was different. We weren't allowed to call him by Mister Whatever-His-Last-Name-Was, Rathbone I want to say but I couldn't be sure, or even sir. He said if any of us did, he would give us a demerit. His name was Cinna and that was what we were to call him. In addition, the guy was always happy as shit, but only seemed to wear black. Bit ironic in my opinion. Today it was a pair of black slacks and a near black collared shirt whose sleeves he had rolled up to his elbows. And even more so, the guy couldn't have been older than twenty-four with a PhD in English literature and was working _here_.

"So today you are going to begin your senior project," he says, "You will work on this project till June. And you will work with a partner."

At this statement, a few students smile and a couple kids glance at one another signaling that they will be partnering up for the project.

"What is life? That will be your project. You will have to explain to me life. Life for everyone is a different experience so you can't get this wrong and if somehow you do it means I have failed you as a teacher. You will have to explain to me what life is to you and your partner, back up your answer... I don't care how you do it. You and your partner can keep a journal. You can write an essay. You can make a diagram. You can write a short story. You can write a single word on an index card for all I care. But you must explain to me life. You have to capture my attention, be creative. You have to have an influence on me, put some thought and emotion into it. You have to make me believe what life is to you could be life to me… This is your senior year of high school. Some people say this part of their life was the best. So live and through living you are bound to find out what life is to you. And if you don't find your answer, you are not living. So live and tell me what life is to you."

He pauses, looking around the room before continuing. "Partner up. By the end of class I expect you to have a sheet on paper on my desk from each group telling me who is working with whom."

In that moment Cinna stops talking the class burst into loud conversations.

As I sit there in silence watching the students around me talk and pair up, I wonder who I will be partnered with. Out of this class, most of the students are friends with one another. Out of us all it's only Nelson, Drew, and I that are the outcast. And mostly likely Nelson and Drew will partner up with one another. With that happening leaves me to partner up with one of the "popular" kids. There always seems to be an odd number of them in every class.

So again looking around I pair everyone up in my mind.

Nelson and Drew

Ron and Hailey

Thresh and Rue

James and Courtney

Taylor and Case

Jon and Ally

Madge and Annie

Eric and Angela

John and Devin

Me and…

Feeling someone tap on my shoulder I turn to see Peeta Mellark giving me a hopeful smile.

"Would you like to be my partner, everyone else seems to have someone?"

"Um," I say knowing that no matter what I will mostly be partnered with him as everyone else has already partnered up, "Sure."

His smiles grew with my response.

"Cool," he said scribbling something on to a sheet of paper before handing it over to me.

Looking to the paper it read:

Peeta Mellark &

And so stopping my finger from twirling my pencil I wrote my name below his:

Katniss Everdeen

Then handing the paper back to him, he set it on top of his notebook before turning back to me.

"When do you want to start?"

"Um," I think, "I was going to go to the game Friday night and I got stuff to do on Sunday… I'm doing the afternoon shift at The Hob Saturday if you want to do something then, it should be slow so I can talk."

He nodded his head. "Sure, that'll work."

We sit there in silence for the remained of the class. Well I sit there in silence while Peeta makes small talk with me I suppose and Thresh in front of him. I don't know, I don't listen in.

It's when the bell rings that he stands up from his desk and give me a genuine smile before he says, "Cya later Katniss."

…

Out in the hall, I sat with my back to the wall, my feet out in front of me crossed and my black, marble notebook sitting on my lap. Looking down at what I had written in my notebook I close it as for now I am complete with my writing as I cannot think of anything else. Then I tuck my notebook away in my bag and pull out a small bag of dried berries Sae had packed me the night before.

Opening the bag, I pop a few berries into my mouth. I chew them for a few seconds before swallowing and then repeat. I continue this for several minutes before I hear the sound of footsteps approaching me.

I tuck the bag of berries back in my bag, looking up and then down the hall to see one of Cato's football friends walking toward me.

Gloss Carter, defensive line. He was a fine defensive lineman. He was tall and muscular, not some chubby fatass. He wasn't even that much of a douche, except… well; no he was kind of a douche. Wore tan khakis with his boxers showing only an inch above the pants waistband with a bright colored polo that outlined his muscles and his blond hair spiked up like a shark fin. He was obnoxiously loud and a show off, about everything.

Giving me a devious smile, he says something to his friend who nods his head before turning down the hall in the opposite direction. As he comes closer, I raise my eyebrows at him.

"Hey, there Everdeen," he says sliding down on the ground next to me, "Haven't seen you around lately."

I give him a smile. "Well you obviously haven't been looking in the right places."

He laughs, "Will I see you this Friday night at Patterson's after party?"

I shrug my shoulders, "You'll have to find me."

Again giving me a devious smile, he leaned closed bring his lips to mine. Moving fast, he sucks on my bottom lip and darts his tongue inside my mouth causing me to gasp in surprise. The kiss escalates fast an in a mere minutes we are pulled apart, Gloss breathing heavily.

"We need to hang out more Everdeen," he breathes, "I missed you."

I laugh. "You miss hooking up."

"There's nothing wrong with missing that," he says, adding, "And you miss it too."

I shrug my shoulder, not giving him an answer. I didn't, yet did miss Gloss. More or less I missed parts of him. I missed his kisses. He was a better kisser than Cato or James or Rye or ... I'm not saying he lacked in the other departments, he was perfectly fine in the other departments, it was just what stood out most about him to me was his lips, the way he kissed.

"You trying to tease me Everdeen?"

I shrug my shoulders again which causes him to get a loud breathe, a snort of a sort.

"So will I see you Friday night?" He asks again.

I lean over and kiss his sculpted jaw. Then I stand slinging my bag over my shoulder and run my fingers through his blond locks, messing up his shark fin.

"You'll have to find me."

…

Making my way out to the parking lot, I weave my way through the students and teachers. Then once in the parking lot I head toward the north end where the tall oak trees are lined up. The closer I grow toward the oaks, the closer I make my way toward the corner I make out a figure sitting on the curb beside my motorcycle.

The closer I get, the better I am able to make out the person. Then no less than thirty feet away I realize who the figure is. Peeta Mellark.

_Oh boy, this guy._

Quickly making my way toward my bike, Peeta stands up off the curb brushing off his pants.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi."

"Um, I was going to give you my phone number… since we're doing the English project together so it'd be easier for us to in contact with each other. You know so we can figure out when we're both free to hang out and work on it." He says handing me a small slip of paper with ten digits scribbled across it in black ink.

"Oh," I say taking the slip of paper in hand. Glancing at it, I read the ten digit number over in my head before carefully folding it and tucking it away into the back pocket of my jeans, "Thanks."

Standing there for a moment I realize I should give him my number.

"Um, do you have pen and paper or something," I ask uneasily, "So I can give you my number?"

"Yeah, of course," he says rather quickly pulling pen from his pocket and a notebook from his backpack, handing it over to me.

So quickly scribbling down my cell phone number I hand it back over to him.

"Thanks," he says.

I nod, "Can you just not… give it out to people. Don't really want people I didn't my cell phone number in the first place calling me."

"Oh, yeah, sure." He says.

I give him a smile. "Thanks."

We stand there for a moment before I decide it's time for me to go. So then going to sit on my motorcycle, I tighten my messenger bag over my shoulder before kicking the kickstand up with the back of my right foot and reviving the engine to life.

"Cya." I say in a normal tone, no doubt being covered up by the engines abhorrent rumbles.

And in return, Peeta says loud enough so that I can hear it, "Bye Katniss."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

…

Grabbing my black marble note book from the top shelf of my locker I shut the door to see Peeta opening his.

"Hey Katniss," he says with a smile, "You're going to the game tonight, right?"

I nod my head.

"Maybe I'll see you there."

_You're going to the game_, I think, _I did not picture you as one of those types of guys who sit and watch shitty high school football games_.

He nods. _Shit I said that out loud_. "I don't watch, I play. I'm on the team. I'm one of the wide receivers."

I nod my head stupidly, "Right, yeah, maybe I'll see you later on tonight."

Then standing there for a moment longer, I slip on my father's leather jacket and adjust my messenger bag over my shoulder.

"Um, cya."

"Bye, Katniss."

…

Climbing the stadium steps I spot Finn at the top right hand corner. So climbing a few more steps I weave between a couple people before plopping down beside him.

"Hey sugar," he says with a devious smirk.

Sarcastically returning the smile I say, "Hey."

Finn and I had been friends since the… sixth grade I want to say. Our friendship was sealed when we were in the seventh grade and Gale was in the eighth grade. Gale was being a complete dick one day and Finn came out of nowhere and punched him. Since then we have been pretty close. He was known as the man-whore of the school and I have been recently become known just as the "whore." A lot of people think were together, but were not. We've had our moments, shared a… kisses and have fucked a few times. But it was never more than just friends.

Feeling him nudge me with his elbow he pops a mint into his mouth.

"What fucker are you screwing tonight, Kitty?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Gloss?"

He nods his head while popping another mint into his mouth. This time he holds his hand out flat in front of me offering me the mint that rest in the center of his palm and like usual I shake my head no.

"You're going to get fat one day."

He laughs, "I will always have this sculpted body of the angels', sugar."

Letting out a laugh, I turn my attention back to the game. Its second quarter with less than a minute left. We were up ten and were most likely going to win the game at this rate. As the clock hit the thirty second marker, the crowd stood watching as Patterson threw the football down the field to number eighty-two who successfully catches the ball, carrying it onto the end zone.

And then just like that we are up sixteen points just before the halftime buzzer sounds.

"Woah," Finn shouts pumping his fist in the air, "Yeah, Mellark!"

I look to Finn. "Peeta plays football?"

He nods his head. "Tried out sophomore years and has been on the team since."

I nod my head watching as Peeta jogs toward the referee, handing him the football before running back toward the rest of the team that was making their way toward the locker-room back in the school.

"What are you two friends or something? Or do you just keep a detailed profile on everyone."

"For the matter of fact we are friends, Spit Fire," he says with a-matter-of-fact smirk plaster across his lips, "Been in the same art class since freshmen year… Decent kid. Kind of an odd-popular-outcast."

Nodding my head I'm not completely sure what Finn is talking about, but I rather not question him. So we fall silent and turn our attention to the cheerleaders doing some god-awful routine out on the middle of the football field that looks a second grader put together. Yet I hold my tongue and do my best not to show how much Glimmer, spirit captain, is bothering me.

Finn doesn't say anything even though I know he's thinking some nasty things up in his mind. Thankfully it's only last a couple minutes longer till the game restarts.

…

People pressed against one another, lights dimmed, booze in plastic cups, and loud music, Patterson's party is in full swing by the time Finn and I arrive.

"Gloss?" Finn questions me when we enter the house.

I nod. "Shelly?" I ask in return.

He shakes his head no. "No girls tonight, just here for a good time."

I raise my eyebrows at him confused. Usually a good time with Finn meant a party… booze… and/ or additionally a girl, most the time a girl.

"I'll explain another time." He says waving it off.

I nod my head knowing now is not the time, but another time. And so giving Finn one last look I make my way through the crowd to find myself a beer.

Through the living room which has been made into a grind feast and make-out mayhem area I find my way into the kitchen where there are two kegs placed in tubs of ice beside the counter. And so grabbing a red plastic cup off the counter I fill it up with the foaming liquid. Then cup in hand, I jump up onto the counter and take a sip. Now all I had to do was wait and see if Gloss was any good at hid-and-seek.

It is half way through my first cup of beer that Patterson finds me.

"Oh man, Gloss is looking for you."

I smile, "Well he isn't doing very good."

Letting out a laugh Patterson shakes his head. "You're something Everdeen."

"And you're a football player Patterson, that's something," I say taking a sip of my beer, "By the way nice tackle during the fourth quarter."

"Thanks," he says pulling his phone from his pocket and texting something rather quickly before sliding the phone back into his pocket, "You're boy is on his way."

Nodding my head, I finish off my beer. Patterson fills my cup up again and we throw our heads back. I'm not sure how long it is till Gloss shows up, but I know I am two plus beers deep and feeling the effects already. _I probably should have ate something today_, I think.

Walking over to me he pulls me into a long kiss to which he holds for a few moments. It's when we break that he gives me a smile.

"Upstairs?"

I nod my head.

So helping me off the counter I throw back the rest of my beer and I hear Patterson say something about not doing the dirty deed in his room. Not paying much attention, I just nod my head. Taking my hand, Gloss led me around the front of the house to where the stairwell is. Then it as we reach the stairs that I feel something, someone watching me. And when I turn to see who it is I see a blond head turning away from me.

Yet not sure who it is or really care I don't fight as Gloss tugs my arm, leading me up the stairs. So once up to the stop of the stair, Gloss leads me down to the end of the hall. Then opening the door to the master bedroom, he shuts and locks the door behind us after entering.

It is in that moment where it is only the two of just that Gloss gives me his sincere dirty look through the darkness and I don't oppose to what comes…

Pulling me against him, he captures my lips in his. Sucking on my bottom lip I let out a gasping moan and he slides his tongue into my mouths. Deepening the kiss, his tongue is like a god.

Then the moment he bites down on my lip we fall back on the bed. Here is where everything quickens.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt he allows me to pull it over his head. At the sight of his chest I run my hands from around his neck, over his shoulders, across his pecks and down to his abs.

"Show off."

"With pride," he says before leaning down to kiss me again.

His hands snakes up under my shirt and he pushes my bra above my breast unexpectedly palming my breast and causing me to moan. Palming my left breast he pinches my right nipple between his thumb and index finger. And I swear that everyone in the hall and down the stairs and down the street can hear me moan in pleasure.

Off with my shirt, we break away from one another to kick off our shoes and slip out of our jeans. But the moment we are left in our undergarments, Gloss's lips are back on mine. Flipping us over so I straddled Gloss's hips, I ran my tongue along his teeth, tugging on his lower lip.

Smiling against me, he unclasps my bra letting it fall to the ground. And bra free, he flips us over so he covers over me.

As he palms my breast I move my hands from his chest and down to the waistband of his briefs. Slipping my hands into his briefs I wrap around his length. Stroking him, a straggles groan comes from the back of this throat.

Hard and ready, he lets out another moan which I silently laugh at. This boy was deprived, bad. And so pulling my hands from his briefs, I begin to tug them down his legs, kicking them off with my foot and he takes the hint to do the same to me.

So spreading my legs, Gloss positions himself in front of me. And then with the slightest nod of the head, he thrust in. Once in, he waste no time pulling himself and quickly thrusting himself back into me. Moaning, his thrust become quicker and stronger, faster and more urgent. At this point I don't know if I'm moaning in pleasure or for him, but I need this, I need this release and that's all I really know. And building and building, my hips met with his.

Our kisses become sloppy, but I don't care. As his grip on my hips tightens, our hips meet he finishes inside of me. But he doesn't stop. Continuing to thrust in and out of me, he tilts his hips, hitting that spot, the friction rubbing against that bundle of nerves. _Oh god._

Letting out a moan, I feel myself building. And losing control, Gloss's thrust suddenly quicken. It's then that I let go, feeling my body let go and permitting a staggered moan escaped my lips.

Falling apart, we lay there for a moment. We don't say anything and we didn't have to. We used one another as a sort of release, nothing more and that was fine. It's after a few moments that I roll off the bed and gather my clothes off the before walking into room's bathroom. Cleaned and presentable I walk out to see Gloss pulling his shirt over my head.

Walking over to him, I ruffle his hair that isn't in its usual shark tail style and kiss his cheek. "Cya later."

And as I opened the door and down the hall I heard him call out after me. "I'll be looking for you Everdeen."

I turn as I reach the top of the stairs and give him a smile before heading to find Finn.

"You'll have to find me." I shout.

With that said I make way down the stairs. And in and out of the rooms, I search for Finn. I pick up an abandoned beer on the way and in the dining room, Clove informs me that Finns out back.

So out the back door, I find Finn hanging around the pool with none other than Peeta Mellark.

"Hey Sugar," Finn says with a smile as I come up beside him, "Did you do the deed?"

I nod my head my yes, not splurging him any details as he would do to me sometimes.

And Peeta raises his eyebrows. "The deed?"

"She fucked Gloss Carter not so long ago."

Hearing this Peeta's face seemed to drop, his skin turning red and his lips circling like an "o."

"Are you two-," he pauses as if its hard him to say the next part, "to-together?"

I shake my head, letting out a short laugh.

"Oh."

"Yeah, we're just- friends."

The conversation falls silent. Finn takes a drink of his beer casually. Peeta is still red and hazed, still trying to process what I said about Gloss and I being friends I assume. And me, I just stand there, not really sure why I am still there. Yet clearing my throat I say, "Well I just came to say I got to go, work and all."

Nodding his head, Finn gives me a smile. "Cya Monday Sugar."

"Bye Katniss."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

…

Father Emil sat at the end corner of the counter and the Red Hat Ladies sat at their usually booth by the front window, that was everyone in the Hob at the moment. I sat on a stool across from Emil eating a small cup of veggie soup while he ate his usual chicken and tomato sandwich with French fries and coleslaw.

"How's band and chorus doing this year?"

I look up at him, "I um, don't take them anymore."

His lips form an "o," but quickly shift into a thin line as he takes a bit out of his sandwich and chews. He wasn't going to ask any question on the top, but switch onto something new. Emil was nice like that. He did question, but he didn't push. He was nice to talk to, knew what to say and what not to say.

"Still top of the class, Katniss?" He asks, switching topics as expected.

"Yeah," I nod my head, "Keeping up on the work and all, could be valedictorian in the spring."

He nods his head in approval. "Good, that's good. And how is Haymitch doing?"

"The team won the game yesterday, but I haven't seen him yet. I was going to stop by tomorrow, make sure he still living."

Emil does not make a remark about my sarcasm like always; he doesn't scold me or tell me otherwise, but continues the conservation like normal.

"Tell him I say hi and congratulations."

"I will," I promise, but most likely I won't and I'm sure Emil knows that.

Emil says no more and neither do I. It is only after a few minutes have passed that he stands up from his seat, placing a ten dollar bill on the counter.

"Father-" I start but he cuts me off.

"No, I am not arguing over this and neither are you. I am paying for my meal and you are going to serve that boy who just walked in."

I turn to see Peeta sitting at the other end of the counter. _When did he come in?_ And by the time I shake Peeta from my mind and turn back to Emil he is already slipping his arms into his jacket.

"Maybe I'll see you at mass tomorrow Katniss," he says with a smile as he makes his way to the door.

And as the door shuts behind him I mutter under my breath, "Probably not."

Then taking in a deep breath I slip the ten into my apron, noting to put eight dollars of it into the cash register. I pick up his plate along with my cup of soup and carry it over to where Peeta is sitting, setting them on the shelf behind the counter.

"What can I get you?"

"Um, cup of tea… two sugars."

I raise my eyebrows knowing he didn't just come here for a cup of tea and so he continues.

"With a club sandwich."

Nodding my head I scribble down the order before calling it out to Thom in the kitchen who shouts back some nonsense I don't understand. Back to Peeta I pull my stool over from where Emil had been sitting to where he sits and begin eating again.

As I eat a spoonful of the soup, I hear Peeta clear his throat, speaking up.

"So, um, this literature project."

_Shit_. How did I forget? Shit. Right, Peeta was coming to the Hob today. Shit, shit, shit.

Setting down my cup of soup, I'm about to say something when Thom calls from the back, saying that Peeta's order is ready. And so reluctantly I go to retrieve Peeta's meal from the service window before sitting back down in front of him.

"What were you thinking about for it," I ask.

"Well, I was thinking we each get a pack of blank index card," he says taking a sip of his tea, "And we write down events or thoughts or lessons or things we find important on them, everything involving life in some way shape or form. By the end of the year we could have enough to make a small booklet out of them or maybe a poster or something along those lines."

I nod my head, "I'm fine with that."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

And like Emil and I, Peeta and I fall silent. I finish my soup and pick at the remaining French fries on Emil's plate. After a while, the Red Hat Ladies leave and a few other customers came in. I served them while working behind the counter, cleaning dishes and helping Thom in the kitchen. Then sooner or later, Peeta was finished with his platter. He tucked a few bills under the edge of his tea cup before standing up.

"Bye Katniss."

…

It's by ten that I leave the house. I figure by the time I get to Haymitch's that it'll near ten-thirty so by then I would have given him a respectable amount of time to sleep in. I snort to myself climbing onto my motorcycle, reviving it to life. Haymitch would be asleep when I got there and he would always be drunk with a massive hangover. That was Haymitch.

Shaking my head, I pull out of the drive and ride along the railroad tracks. At some point I cross over and head toward town. Then I hop onto Main Street till I turn down Grove and head for the Victor's Circle development. Finally after a few minutes, I pull into Victor's Circle, the development of the six nicest houses in town… and surprising, Haymitch owned one of them. Ironic, the town drunk living with class.

Cutting the engine, I walk into the house immediately. Haymitch should really learn to lock his doors, but then again it's not like anyone would ever rob his place or anything along those lines, there's nothing valuable to steal or any reason a human would ever want to step foot into his house.

And inside, as usual, the place looks like shit.

The town drunk living with class _and_ in shit. Dirty clothes on the floor. Empty bottle sitting on top of tables and lying across the ground. Expired food in the refrigerator. Dirty dishes piled high in the sink. Dust lining the furniture and cobwebs in the corners.

Letting out a groan I go to work. Bottles recycled, clothes in the wash, dishes placed in the dishwasher, outdated food replaced, and dust swiped away. So taking a carton of eggs out of the refrigerator along with bread and some cut fruit, I begin to work. Scrambling a few eggs, I poured them into a pan before dropping two pieces of bread into the toasters. Attending to the eggs, it is only after a few minutes that the bread is toasted and eggs cooked. So shutting off the stove's burner, I scrap the eggs onto a plate and place the toast beside it.

So with food prepared, I take a glass of water and head upstairs. Then into Haymitch's room, I see the old drunk laying face up in the tangled sheets of the bed. And walking over to the side of the bed, I reach out, pouring the glass of water onto Haymitch's face.

The moment the water collides with his face, he shoots up, fazed and confused. Grunting and mumbling some nonsense. He adjusts after a few moments to his surroundings and processes that I am standing beside his bead.

"Dammit, sweetheart, I told you not to do that."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You could have killed me or hurt me or something. You could have done whatever…" I trail on. "But foods ready so out."

Hearing him let out an obnoxious groan, he forces himself out of the bed to follow me down to the kitchen.

When in the kitchen, Haymitch sat down at the table and began to eat while I cleaned up the kitchen. Filling the dishwasher, I shut the door and pressed the start button. Then with nothing to do I sat down across from Haymitch at the table.

"Sweetheart, you need to eat." He says with a mouthful of eggs.

"I'm fine."

"Sweetheart, you're less than bone, eat."

Shooting him a glare telling him a fine he switches subjects. Haymitch knows what battles he can win with me and what battles he can't, but there are the times he pushes.

"Why am I hearing the boys on the team talking about you a whole lot this year?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"Sweetheart." He says in a parental tone.

"_None_ of your fucking business Haymitch." I say in an irritated tone.

He sets done his fork looking up at me. "You are my dam business sweetheart. I promised your father I would take care of you if anything were to happen."

"Ha," I laugh standing up from my spot at the table, "And doing real well at it."

Walking down toward the hall, Haymitch calls out after me, "Sweetheart-"

But it's too late. I'm already out the door.

…

Grudging up the drive of the Hawthorne residence, I spot someone sitting on the hood of the old mustang sitting in the garage. So turning my steps away from the stone path that leads up to the front door, I walk into the garage. And around the car, I come to the hood where I find Rory sitting.

"Hey," I say hopping up onto the hood beside him, placing my feet on the bumper.

"Hey Katniss," he says in a low tone.

God, I've never seen the kid so sad. It has been like this since, since- Prim.

"What's up?"

He shrugs his shoulders. _Dammit kid, give me something._

"How pissed is Gale?"

At this he smiles, cocking his head to face me. There's a spark.

"Really pissed," he says with a kind of brighter tone and a smile, "I don't know what you did this time, but he's _pissed."_ He laughed, "What did you do anyway?"

"Fooled around with Cato Jones in the janitor's closet."

He shrugs his shoulders. "You've done worse."

I laugh at his casualness. Rory is not like Gale. He looks like Gale, but otherwise he is nothing like Gale. He doesn't scold me about my… _habits_. Rory just accepts. He understands part of what I am going through and I think that's why he has become so accepting of me. If he wasn't so accepting, then he would be acting more like a miniature assholic Gale at the moment than a friend.

Wrapping my arm around his shoulder I let out a laugh.

"Much worse… what's for dinner?"

"Spinach and cheese raviolis."

I smile slipping off the hood of the mustang, pulling Rory down with me. "Well come on, let's not be late."

…

"Katniss-" Hazel begins, but I cut her off.

"Hazel, I'm fine."

"Katniss, you ate maybe two, two and a half raviolis-" She protests.

"Really," I say doing my best to convince her, "I'm just not that hungry."

Looking to me she takes in a deep breath before letting it out.

"Fine," she says pointing her finger at me, "But you're not leaving till you take a tupperware container home with you."

Giving her a small smile and slight nod, I step out of the kitchen. This is my time to go, now. So down the hall, I reach the door, silently opening and closing the door behind me, slipping unnoticed out of the house.

Yet it is as I turn that I hear a voice speak from behind me.

"Katniss." _Shit. Ass. Fuck. Gale. Why?_

Turning I see Gale sitting down against the house's brick wall.

"What do you _want_ Gale?"

"What do I want," he retorts, "What is _wrong_ with you?"

I laugh, "Oh, so many things."

"This is not funny Katniss," he says standing up from his position beside the wall, "You're screwing with your life."

"Exactly," I say in a stern voice yet still smiley, "_My_ life."

Letting out a frustrated groan as he clenches his fist which causes his knuckles to go white. "Katniss-"

But I don't let him finish. "No Gale, this is _my_ life. I will do whatever I want. You have no say. Maybe you think you do cause you 'deflowered' me, but that- that was one night where a lot of things happened, Gale."

"Com'on Katniss, I told you I love you and you slept with me."

"I was also so drunk that I was probably three times over the legal limit for someone of the legal age and I know you were drunk to, but not as bad off as me Gale."

"Katniss-" He begins, but is cut off by someone, clearing their throat.

Turning to see who it was, I turn to see Hazel standing in the doorway. Taking in a deep breath, I feel my chest tighten and body stiffen. My hands are trembling and at this point I realize I have been crying throughout this whole thing. Quickly wiping away my tears, I reach out, taking the tupperware container from Hazel's hands and stuffing it into my bag.

"Sorry Hazel," I mumble, stepping backwards, "I'm sorry, really. Sorry... I'm thankful you invited me over for dinner; it was fantastic, the- the food was great… I have to go. I'm sorry. Tell the kids I'm sorry I didn't come in and say goodbye… sorry."

I trail on, not really knowing what I am saying. However at some point I realize I am half way down the front lawn and so I make a run for it.

…

I sit, barricading the front door. Tears streaming down my face. My chest tight and gasping for air. My body stiff and shaking. I sit with my hands pressed over my ears. I sit panicking.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen. I live in the Seam. I go to school at Capitol Hill. I am top of my class, valedictorian. I drink. I sleep around. I don't really care. I have one friend, Gale Hawthorne. He told me he loved me and I slept with him months ago. I love him, but not in the way he wants me to. I don't know what we have become. Prim is dead. Dad is dead. Mom is gone. I don't what I'm doing or where I'm going. This is me, this is my life._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

…

Beetee walks around the class, going on about the carburetors and the different types of filters in the stereotypical pick-up truck. I'm not sure why he's going about carburetors and filters anyway, we weren't learning about them in class yet. Today in the class period we were soldering some wires, two sockets, and such together so that from a single D-battery we could light a small light bulb. Class started twenty minutes ago, I was done fifteen minutes ago.

Now, Beetee was walking around the room, rambling on, seeing everyone's progress. He would stop at each table to comment and tweak at each person's set up.

Approaching my table, Beetee smiled, "Done?"

I nod my head yes.

"Let's see."

So tightening the bulb to the right, I twist it into its socket. And when tightened all the way, the bulb glowed bright.

Beetee smiled. "Good job, Katniss. Good job."

I nod by head, twisting the bulb to the left, killing the light.

"Thinking of doing anything with mechanics when you get out of here?" He asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe, I don't know." I personally haven't thought what I was going to do with my life after graduation, a few months ago I didn't even know if I was going to go back to school.

He reaches over, twisting the light bulb so it flickers to life.

"Your father was just like you or I should say you are just like him," he smiles at whatever memory of _him_ he is thinking of, "He was always good with wires and bolts and what not. It's no wonder he was one of this town's best firefighter, knew how to fix the trucks to being able to tell if a fire was caused by some faulty wires just by the look of the rubble… He was smart and snappy like you. Top of his class, too… You look like think too. Those Italian features and gray eyes… You two are so alike, looks to smarts."

Pausing, he stares at the light for a bit before continuing, "He was a good guy, he'd be proud of you… If you decide to do something involving mechanics, I would be more than happy to write you a recommendation or something."

I barely nod my head, too stunned to do anything else.

My father. Axel Everdeen. My best friend. People don't mention him that often. Talking about him is not one of my most favorable topics. I'm not saying I didn't like my father, I love him. His memory just… hurt. Even though it has been close to seven years, I still couldn't stand to truly think about him. And when I could, I would think of the little things. How he taught me to tie my shoes or how he would take me camping or how he uses to read me those books about the Greek gods. But even then I hated thinking of him, I would end up thinking about how he was no longer here and all the things that had happened this he died, all the things that had gone wrong and that he had missed out on.

And so Beetee gives me another smile before heading to the next table, I pull out my marble notebook and begin to write till the bell rings.

…

Sitting in AP European History, the substitute is going on about the like she knows about Napoleon Bonaparte. Supposedly by her, Mrs. O'Hare, he wasn't as short as everyone made him out to be. He was pretty normal in the height category, 5'6 to be exact. This whole short-ordeal was brought upon the fact that the French foot was thirteen inches unlike the American foot which was twelve inches.

Anyway as Mrs. O'Hare handed out loose-leaf, she switched topics from Napoleon's height to the paper assignment our teacher had left for us to complete. We could write about anything we wanted as long as it was able to be related to European history and our paper was five or more paragraphs long.

So with Napoleon Bonaparte in mind, I began to write:

_The Height of Bonaparte_

_We have all heard of the famous Napoleon Bonaparte, the self-crowned emperor of France, and he is no doubt considered a very important historical figure, especially in European history._

_He was not actually French by birth; he was the son of a nobleman from the island of Corsica. The only reason he ever came to France was that his father had been offered a job on the continent…_

_Napoleon was indeed a brilliant military mastermind, but also an ingenious intellectual who had enough charisma to charm a nation…_

_Napoleon was considered to be both a charismatic leader and a tyrant as he reigned without the consent of the people, but helped to create order in France after the revolution…_

_Something that has remained long after Napoleons death was that of his law systems, called the Napoleonic Code. Much of this system still exists today in modern legislation…_

_Nevertheless, Napoleon Bonaparte's height not only physically, but metaphorically which wins him a spot in the European History Hall of Fame. _

I set down my pen with a smile. I was finish, the paper was done. Thus nevertheless with my five paragraphs complete, I sat back in my seat, closed my eyes and waited for class to be over. Peace.

Yet it was only when I began to hear someone tapping their pen on my desk top that my peace had been disturbed. Taking in a deep breath, I tell myself to keep its cool. _Don't give a fuck_, I tell myself, _ignore it and just go back to clearing your mind_.

The tapping continued and my mind becomes even more so jumbled. There was no peace, it was lost. Gone. _Don't lose it, breath_. And so when calm as possible I open my eyes to see a smiling Peeta Mellark looking at me.

_Shit._ I didn't even realize he sat down in front of me during class today. _God, I needed to get my head in order._ I had been avoiding him too, this wasn't good. Well I haven't really been avoiding Peeta exactly; I have been avoiding the men in my life. Gale… Haymitch… Gloss… Finn… Cato… and I suppose Peeta fell in that category now.

Giving him a smile I say in a soft tone, "Hey."

"Hey," he says in the same tone, "I have been trying to find you all week."

I smile to myself. So for the last few days I had been successfully avoiding everyone, that's good.

"Been busy." I tell him.

He nods his head, pulling a pack of blank index cards from his backpack and handing them out for me, "For the project."

"You didn't need to buy me these Peeta," I say not reaching out for the cards, "I could have gotten them myself."

He shrugs his shoulders, setting the cards down of my desk, brushing it off like it's no big deal. "I was out buying my own, and figured I'd get you a packet."

"How much were they," I ask immediately.

"Why?"

"To pay you back." _Cause I don't need you doing shit for me._

"You don't need to pay me back."

"Yes I do." _I don't want to owe you. I don't want you doing me "favors." I don't need help. I can go out to the store and buy a pack of index card on my own. I'm a big girl._

"Katniss-"

"I'm not some charity case, Peeta." I snap.

"I know," he swallows, "But that doesn't mean I can't be friendly and buy you a pack of index cards."

"Peeta-" I begin but the bell rings cutting me off. And so watching Peeta stand up from his seat, he turns to face me before heading out of the class.

"I know you're not some charity case Katniss, I've never seen you that way, never will, but if it means that much to you, that you have to pay me back, buy me a cup of tea or something at the Hob next time I come to get something to eat."

And with that, Peeta was gone. To the front of the room, dropping his sheet of loose-leaf on the desk in front of Mrs. O'Hare and then out the door, he was gone.

…

Sitting on the bleachers, I watch as the football team finishes up practice. I don't know really how I convinced myself to do this, but here I was. I, Katniss Everdeen, was going to apologize to Peeta Mellark.

So as Haymitch blew the whistle twice, the players pulled off their helmets in relieve. Practice was over.

Now, Peeta. I wasn't going to move from my spot of the bleachers, my body refused. I was only going to apologize to Peeta if he saw me and came up to the bleachers to talk to me. I was stubborn. I was only going to apologize in he came ninety percent of the way. And so watching as the guys made their way over to the sidelines, I kept my eye on Peeta. Number eighty-two.

He walked over from the far side of the field to the benches where everyone was crowd. He stood beside Patterson. Together they talked. As Peeta took a drink from one of the water bottles on the bench, Patterson said something which caused Peeta to look up at me. He nodded his head, setting down the water bottle he headed for the bleacher stairs with his helmet in hand.

His cleats clacking against the metal as he made his way up the steps to the fifth row where I sit, Peeta sat down next to me.

"So you are on the football team."

He laughs, "Yeah."

"Sorry." I mutter in a rushed tone.

"That I play football," he jokes, "Am I that bad?"

I know he's trying to make me laugh, but I don't. "Sorry 'bout history."

"Why?"

"Cause I was a complete bitch today."

He shrugs his shoulder. "No you weren't, you were being normal. That was all me. I was being a dick and you had every right to snap at me."

"You a dick," I laugh rolling my eyes, "Right."

"I was." He tries to convince me.

I shake my head, smiling. The thought of Peeta intentionally being a dick seemed a bit farfetched.

"Well think what you want."

"I think I still owe you."

"Okay," he says, "What are you doing now?"

"Um, nothing."

"Buy me a cup of tea then."

"Now?"

He nods restating himself. "After I get my gear off, buy me tea."

Not knowing what to say I mumble out, "Um, okay."

So with that, Peeta ran off to the locker room to get changed. _Oh, shit._ My mind reeling I turn my head to see Haymitch staring at me. _Crap_. Raising his eyebrows at me I shoot him a glare. I then stand up from my seat and head to the parking lock before anything else could go wrong.

…

Peeta and I sit out on the back steps of the Hob. He is eating a bagel and cream cheese with a cup of tea while I pick at the whole wheat muffin I took from the display case on the counter.

"So where were you all week?" Peeta ask breaking the silence.

"Avoiding people." I say truthfully.

"Did I do something?"

"Not you," I say popping a piece of the muffin's top into my mouth, "The guys in my life more like it."

"Oh," he says, "Sorry."

I internally groan. What was think him and apologizing? I had just told him he hadn't done anything wrong so why was he apologizing?

"Don't apologize, you didn't do anything." I just about snap.

We fall silent again. _Shit you, Katniss._

"Sorry," I mumble.

"About what?" He says raising his eyebrows.

"Bitching out on you."

"Katniss you weren't-"

But I cut him off. "I was."

Peeta doesn't say anything, but I'm sure on the inside he's saying otherwise, telling himself that I wasn't being a bitch, that I was a good person.

Sitting there, Peeta speaks up. "Are we friends?"

_Um…_ I shrug my shoulder, "Don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Why do we have to be friends?"

"Why _can't_ we be friends," he retorts.

"I don't have that many friends. I can count my friends on one hand," I state, "And if the people that society would define as my friends then I already have too many."

"You can never have too many friends," he smiles.

I shake my head. "Of course you can."

"They're not like tupperware containers or clothing hangers where you can have too many. They're not something you hoard. They're just there. They're people."

And finishing the top of my muffin, I wrap the bottom half up in my napkin, stuffing it away in my bag before standing up.

"Peeta, the more people you know, care about, the more problems you have."

"Could be worth it though, caring about someone."

I shake my head, stepping down from where we sit to my motorcycle. And so reviving the engine to life, I look to him one last time.

"Are you afraid of me being your friend," he asks standing up off the step.

I shake my head. "I think that question be the other way around."

"Katniss you-" He begins, but doesn't finish.

"If I were you, Peeta, I wouldn't get involved with me. Might not end well."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

…

"Sorry," I hear from behind my locker door.

The voice is familiar. Its deep and husky… manly… strong and stern. It's strange in a way, as if it's speaking unfamiliar words. Yet the voice is too familiar that it bothers me I can't seem to think of who it is. As it tugs at memories in my mind I can't seem to recall at the moment. The voice is familiar though and the words are odd and that's what stands out to me.

So shutting my locker door, I turn to see who it is. And it's who I expect. It's not Peeta Mellark apologizing for the other night when talking about my views on friends. It's not Finn apologizing for nothing, but at the same time something. It's not Haymitch even though I would know better than to find him walking the halls of this god forsaken school. However it's none other than Gale Hawthorne. The boy who was as stubborn as I was… apologizing for his wrong doing. A once in a lifetime moment.

Adjusting the strap on my bag across my chest I don't say anything, but stare and wait.

"I'm sorry," he continues, "For fucking everything up. For being a fucking dick. I shouldn't have… It was out of my… I- I fucked up."

And that's it, that's Gale's apology. And even though it's short and shitty and something most people wouldn't even consider to be an apology, it's Gale and it works.

"I don't love you Gale, at least not like that."

Sadly he nods his head. "But I love you that way."

_I know... _I think._ You love me. You love me romantically. Kisses and all. You want me to be your girlfriend. You want to be my boyfriend. You see a future for us, together, married with kids one day... Rory told me everything, _everything_. You love me. You have loved me since I had turned fifteen. Supposedly that morning down by the creek nearby the meadow changed everything, I don't even know what it was that caused you to fall for me, but you did... But you were afraid to make a move. You, mister buff and tough were afraid to ask me out. Then everything got fucked up and we slept together. Everything changed. And…_

"I know," I say looking him in the eye, trying to get my point across even though I know the chances are slim, "But _I_ don't. I don't love you romantically… I love you like a… brother."

"But Catnip-"

"No Gale, I am not. I don't care that we have been friends since birth. I don't care that's it's what most people expect out of us. I don't care if you could support me and the children we could have. No. The answer's no."

"Catnip-"

"Gale have you not been paying attention," I say swinging my hands up in the air, "_I can't_. I don't _feel_ anymore. I don't _want_ to."

"You could." He says with a sad smile.

"I know I could," I say shaking my head, "But I can't afford to do that to myself again. I just- can't."

"Katniss."

"Gale." _You stubborn shit listen to be me!_

He nods his head knowing for now that this is it, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," I smile sadly. And I am, I am sorry that I hurt Gale. I didn't mean to hurt him on purpose and I have hurt him on purpose before, but this time, hurting him was a horrible accident. I feel god awful about it. I was, am sorry about it. I'm sorry that I wasn't clear with him, that I slept with him, and overall screwed everything over. I'm sorry that I got his hopes up, that everything is one big mess between us, and screwed over now. I'm sorry that things can't go back to normal. I'm sorry.

The bell rings and the halls clear. Yet when I look I see Gale is still standing there in front of me, unfazed by the bell. I look to him with concern. _What the hell was he doing?_ He's supposed to be in PE right now. He can't afford to miss a class and I won't allow him to do so at my cost. He can't afford to fail senior year again.

"Gale-"

I don't finish my sentence though as he cuts me off. "Mr. Waters is out sick, all PE and health classes are canceled. Office announced it after first."

_Oh, right. That's what that incomprehensible noise over the intercom following calculus was_.

"Um," I say branching off onto another topic, "I was going to go the Hob- for lunch."

"I'll drive."

…

"Here you go man," Thom says setting Sae's daily stew in front of Gale, beef and rice with vegetables.

"Thanks," Gale says before Thom nods his head and walks away.

With Thom gone, we sit there in silence. Me looking down at my tea, using my spoon to stir the beige liquid around in a circle creating a vortex while Gale took a moment to glance at his food before looking to me and then after a long minute back to his food from which he took a spoonful of.

Minutes go by before Gale breaks the silence, turning his attention away from his bowl of stew. "You aren't hungry?"

I shake my head no.

"You sure?" He asks me as if I am a child.

I nod my head yes.

"You're skinny," he states.

I roll my eyes. _We have a winner here ladies and gentlemen. A real genius. Thank you Captain Obvious._

"You aren't starving yourself, are you?" He asks in a wiry voice.

I look up at Gale shocked. _Did he just cross that line- Did he just ask if I have an eating dis- Did he just accuse me of being an-_

"No Gale," I snap in a stern voice, "I am not starving myself."

He nods his head unsure, but doesn't say anything. Instead he switches the conversation off onto another topic. "Odair says he sorry."

"Finn? Finnick Odair?"

He nods.

"Since when do you talk to Finn?" I ask surprised.

He shrugs his shoulders, eating a spoonful of the stew. "We talk whenever you get pissy with the both of us."

I nod my head suspiciously. Gale hated Finn, just has hated him from the start. It was something about taking up my time or butting him out or something. Finn played nice for my sake, but I knew he detested Gale as much as Gale hated him. Whenever I'd ask why Finn would just wave it off. They were obvious about their "feeling" toward one another; they didn't even try to hide their hatred. Whenever Gale and Finn were in the same room as one another, there were always muttered threats and sharp glares, a whole lot of tension. The thought of them talking to one another without something going wrong seemed strange.

"Yeah well, he says he's sorry," he pauses, fixing his eyes on me, "And he says that you have to talk to Mellark."

At this my body stiffs. _Shit you Peeta_. What the hell did he want? He had been part of my life for no more than a moment and was already making me regret ever agreeing to be his partner for Cinna's dam project.

"What's with you and Mellark anyway," Gale ask, "You two- doing stuff?"

I shoot Gale a glare. "No, we are not "doing stuff." I got partnered up with him for some dam class project."

Gale nods. "Mh hmm."

With that response, I look up at him. _Shit you Gale_. One, I know that you don't believe me. So screw you. You have no right to judge me. Dick. I have always been honest with you. And two, there is something you are not telling me. So up yours for secret keeping, we're - were, are, could be, I don't know - best friends.

And I know there is something more, something he is keeping from me, but at the moment I don't care. I rather not get into another conservation with Gale that has to deal with something I know he'll most likely lose his shit over. _Let's just keeps everything calm Katniss. _

"Okay," I mutter annoyed, "Finish your stew and let's go."

…

Back at school, we make it back just in time. And as we walk through the halls, on our way to class, I spot Finn sitting outside my AP Mechanics classroom. Gale gives me a nod and a pat on the shoulder before heading to his physics class.

"Hey."

I nod a hello. Then sitting down beside him, I tuck my legs in close to my chest.

"Sorry," he says, "For… for whatever the hell I did."

I smile. "You're forgiven for whatever the hell you did."

Finn laughs, shaking his head. "I didn't do anything did I?"

"No."

"So you just took your "_bitch-e-ness_" out on everyone?" He says stressing "bitch-e-ness."

I shrug my shoulders.

"Well bitchy or not," he says, nudging me with his knee, "Why did you push Peeta away?"

_Great, here goes the Peeta situation._ "I didn't push him away."

"No," he says sarcastically, leaning his head back with a laugh, "You just told him you didn't want to be friends with him because you can't bother to care for anything. It's not like the guy isn't sensitive or anything."

"He's a football player." I say as-a-matter-of-fact, rolling my eyes.

He adds, "And a wrestler and a baker and painter and an okay of a dancer, but that doesn't matter. You were still a bitch."

"Since you're my _friend_, you should know I'm _always_ a bitch, Finn."

"Not always-"

"Finn-" I warn him knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"Kitty-"

"I don't need any more friends, Finn."

He looks to me with a frown, "You can never have too many friends, Kitty."

"I can't, Finn," I say, "And I can't pay to have anymore."

He looks at me with puppy dogs eyes.

"I can't risk it."

"Katniss-" He says using my full name. My full name was a name Finn only used in certain situation like when he is worried or concerned or acting serious about something. It's a sign that the next thing he is going to say isn't going to be of my liking.

I shake my head, "I can't."

Finn runs his hand over his face, frustrated. "Katniss," he sighs, "I'm pulling the friend card."

It's when the words "friend card" escape his lips, I shoot him a glare. Oh, no, no, no. He was not pulling the friend card. He could not be a big enough dick in his entire life if he was going to pull the friend card on me now. Especially cause I knew exactly what he was going to do with it. No. I would not allow it. Of all things possible, he was going to just his friend card, his favor on something pointless. No. He was not using his favor on Peeta Mellark.

And there it is, the thing not to my liking. Friend card.

"Finn-"

He shook his head. "I'm using my favor."

"Finn-"

"Just friends," he says, "Not even friends, acquaintances."

"Finn-"

"Katniss," he sighs, "If you won't do this for yourself, do it for me. One more friend won't kill you and it would make me feel a lot better about… things. Just- please."

I let out an aggravated groan.

"Friends."

Shaking my head, I stand up. "I hate you."

"Play nice," he warns me with a smile.

"No." I snip, sending a you're-a-pain-in-my-ass smirk his way. "I'll do your fucking favor, but I will not _play_ nice."

Finn looks to me and I just shake my head and clench my fist in aggravation.

Then turning I walk down the hall. And just before I'm about to turn the corner I flip him the finger, calling over my shoulder, "Hate you."

I hear him laugh. "I suppose I'll tell Beetee you went to the nurse sick."

…

I walk into Mellark's Bakery. It's after closing time, but I don't really give a shit. I had just gotten off from the Hob, smelling like grease and burgers and just wanted to get Finn's fucking favor out of the way.

Inside, the "customer awareness bell" rings as the door shuts behind me. No one's there in the front room. _Ahhh_, I internally groan, _whyyy_. So walking over to the bakery counter, I tap the bell that sits beside the register and wait. I just want to get this the hell over with.

Moments later Peeta appears, dressed in a Mellark's apron with flour dusted across his arms and chest.

"Hey," he smiles.

"I'll be your friend."

Caught off guard he asks, "What?"

"Remember asking me if we were friends," I say annoyed, "Well, _sure_."

"Friends?"

I roll my eyes, "Yes."

Nodding his head, I turn to the door only to hear him ask, "Why?"

_Why are you so difficult? Why do you ask so many questions? Why-_ "As a favor."

"A favor?"

"Yes, a favor. You know, when someone does a service for another out of goodwill. Thus I'm being your friend because of a favor," I say rather harshly than I intended, "So don't expect that much out of me."

With at his face drops and his eyes sadden and I kind of feel… bad? What? Huh?

Shaking my head, I open the door mumbling, "I got to go."

And as the door closes I hear, "Bye Katniss."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII

…

"Are you done yet," I here Finn groan.

I look up from under the hood of the old wagon and shoot him a glare. "Do you want your car to run or do you want it to be damaged beyond repair," I snap.

He shuts his mouth and nods his head obediently.

If anyone couldn't tell, I was pissed with Finn. It had been for the last three days since he pulled the friend card. And the _friend_ I am, I went through with the favor. Hated every second of it… kind of.

But hated it, yes… hated. I didn't _need_ any more friends. I didn't _want_ any more friends. Well, that was too bad. Finn said otherwise. He was worried about my social life I suppose and decided to use his favor for such cause. The more the merrier my ass.

But whatever. So Peeta and I were "friends" now. I wasn't overjoyed about it, but I suppose I was okay with it. While Peeta on the other hand seemed to be all smiles, happy as hell about our friendship.

Peeta Mellark was a child that seemed to amaze me. The morning following telling him I would be friends with him, which I note I did pretty harshly, he walked into lit with the biggest smile on his face. I mean, I had basically told him I didn't want to be friends with him, but he was still okay with the arrangement. Anyway he came in all cheerful and sat beside me, talking to me about how nice the weather was. And I don't know was happened, but I just felt so… guilty?

Next thing I knew I was mumbling some vague apology for PMSing the night before. He smiled and waved it off like it was no big deal. Since then, he's been the same, shitting butterflies and rainbows so hard out of his ass with a genuinely blissful smile on his face.

"You know," I hear coming from my side, "I only asked you to befriend Peeta 'cause I thought it would be good for you. He's a nice guy and you're a good human being, too. You don't have too many friends and one more, Peeta wouldn't kill to have around. He's nice and reliable and not a dick… I mean, there are a lot of nice things I can say about the kid, I just thought… I'm worried about you Kitty and I thought Peeta would be good for you."

I stop working, but continue to look down at the car's engine as he pauses to take in a few breaths.

"He likes you and I figured if he likes you enough to want to be your friend than you shouldn't go shoot him down. He's a good guy. And he… I don't know what I think; I guess I think he'll make me worry a little less about you if he's around. Hell, I'm already worried enough. I have enough shit in my own life to worry about, I going to be late with my date with the perfect girl."

Now I set down the wrench in my hand and look up over at him_. The prefect girl? What?_

I ask, "What girl?"

He smiles. "Annie Cresta."

"Was she the one you were going to tell me about at Patterson's?"

He smiled, yes.

"Annie Cresta," I think aloud, "Library Annie?"

He nods his head yes. "Finally got her to agree to go on a date with me." He frowns gesturing to the wagon, "And then my car craps out."

I nod my head. Finn likes this girl. Actually likes her. He doesn't just want to sleep with her. He genuinely likes her. Hell, he's taking her out on a date, something that I have seen with Finn happen only every other hundredth solar eclipse.

Then I realize, "She's why you didn't fuck around at Patterson's?"

"I haven't done whatever with anyone since early August Katniss."

I look to him confuse. _He hadn't? Huh?_

"Remember that party in the summer when you barfed on my red converse," he asks.

I nod my head yes. That party wasn't one of my best.

"I was talking to Annie just before that happened," he explains, "Found out we had a lot in common. Asked her out that night on a date, an actual date. She said no, but she was willing to be friends. I agreed… Found out later that it bothered her I had- had a history. So, haven't been with anyone. Been trying to show her I'm a pretty good guy, trying to convince her I was "date worthy.""

I smile, "You're a great guy Finn."

He sadly smiles, "Doesn't matter. I'm not going to make the date."

He looks sad, running his hands over the stomach of the v-neck he's wearing, flattening out the lines and wrinkles. Finn's a bad looking sad person, like one of those kids who ring your doorbell asking you to buy a box of cookies only to have you tell them no sort of sad.

Feeling bad I look to his wagon. There's no way I'll be able to fix whatever the hells wrong with it so he could get to his date on time. Internally groaning, I look around. Its then and there I spot my motorcycle.

"Hey," I say causing him to look up at me, "Catch." And I throw him my keys.

Catching them he looks up at me. "Kat-"

"You'll owe me."

"You're pissed at me." He sates confused.

"And Annie Cresta agreed to go on a date with you."

His face breaks into a broad smile as he comes over, picking me up into a hug. "Oh, I love you, I love you."

He continues to smile, spinning me around in a circle before setting me down on the ground, and planting a kiss on the forehead. "I'll owe you, big time," he says climbing onto the bike, "Thank you. I'll owe you. And I'll take care of the bike, I promise. Thank you."

…

It's dark by the time I figure what's wrong with Finn's car. The stark plugs were bad which resulted in the car back firing and staling out so badly that Finn called me out here. And best of all, I couldn't fix it, didn't have any spark plugs to swap out the old ones with… so I was stuck here.

So shutting the wagon's hood, I sit down on it. _Now how to get home_.

I was two towns over, nearly ten plus miles out. At this time of night, walking didn't seem to be an option. Haymitch was probably drunk or in the process of getting drunk. Finn was on a date. Gale was watching the kids tonight. _Shit. How the hell was I going to get home? _

Lying back onto the hood, I look up at the sky. The stars were out. There were a lot tonight. Orion's belt was perfectly visible, shining bright. I smile at the image; Orion's belt was the first star, set of stars my father taught me. If he was here, I would be able to rely on him; he was always there for me as a kid. He was, would be a reliable source, especially in situations like this.

Reliable. The word triggers something in my head and the next thin g I know I am tapping away on my phone.

…

Peeta comes only thirty minutes later. Watching as he drive his jeep in front of the wagon, throwing it in park and hopping out, he gives me a smile.

"Hey," he says coming up to the hood of the car where I sit, "So Finn left you here?"

I nod my head.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong."

He opens his mouth, about to say sorry again, but quickly shuts it and instead nods his head.

We stay there in an awkward silence for a few moments. Peeta standing tall in front of me with his hands shoved in his pockets and me sitting on the car's hood passing my phone between my hands.

"Um, so you want to get out of here?" He asks.

I nod my head, hopping off the car.

"Is it fine… leaving it here?" He asks looking to the wagon.

I shrug my shoulders. "I told Finn I was leaving it. It's locked and I left a note on the window if the cops come by. Figured just get up early before school and come change the spark plugs."

He nods his, "Okay."

So to his jeep, he takes his seat on the driver's side and I on the passenger's side. He starts the car and we head back toward the Valley District. Neither one of us talk, but this time there is no silence as the radio plays some hit songs that the host raves about.

And as it only takes him thirty minutes to come out to get me, it only takes him thirty minutes back to the center of town.

It's as we pass through downtown that I speak up, "You can drop me off here."

"Katniss, I'm not going to drop you off in the middle of town during the middle of the night."

"Peeta-" But he cuts me off.

"Let me drive you home, it would make me feel better that I know you weren't killed or something."

"Peet-"

"Katniss."

"I can make it home from here."

"I know you can, I don't doubt you, but I would feel a lot better if I drove you." He explains

"Exactly," I say trying to point out that I am capable to getting myself home.

"Katniss, please."

"Pee-"

"I'm driving you."

Too tired to fight him, but too stubborn to agree with him, I remain silent.

He turns off the Main Street and from there I speak up every now and then, telling him when to turn and whatnot.

Five minutes go by before Peeta pulls up in front of my house.

Unbuckling my seat belt, I hop out of the car. "Um, ah thanks."

He smiles. "No problem."

And so with that I turn to walk across the small lawn outside my house when half way I turn and walk back to Peeta.

"Forget something?"

"I'm not good at this friend thing," I state, ignoring his question, "I didn't mean to sound like a bitch the other day when I said it was a favor. It is a favor, but I'm going to try… I guess… as a favor. But, I'm not good at the friend thing. I don't like it. I got two-ish friends now and that's all I need. That's all the people I can seem to be able to manage. The ability to allow myself to care for someone in my life is very thin." I take a deep breath. "I'm fucked up, Peeta."

He nods his head in understanding, but I doubt he does. And when he opens his mouth I shoot him a glare as for the past two weeks I have known Peeta, he always seemed to respond with kind remarks to my statements. Like when I say "I'm fucked up" he would shake his head and say something like "You're a wonderful person" or "Don't say something like that, you're not."

He catches my glare and shuts his mouth. Then he opens it again. "Okay."

_Okay_. Good. Okay. I can deal with an okay.

"School tomorrow," he asks.

I nod my head. "Most likely."

He nods his head again, staring at me. And as he stared, I began to feel… weird.

_Was there something on me? My face? Wait… did I just ask myself if there was something on me? Oh shit. Was I becoming a girl? No. Hell, I didn't care what I looked like. I wore hunting boots and wore my hair in the same fishtail braid on a daily basis. What the hell was Peeta doing to my head? Ah, life… I just needed sleep, that was it… and I really needed to go inside if I was going to do that. _

"Well, um," I say, "Got stuff to do."

"Right," he smiles with a wave as he puts the jeep in drive, "Bye Katniss."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX

...

The weather has changed substantially in the past week. The wind has picked up and the air has become cold. Jeans and a jacket have become a common occurance in my apparel. And there was no doubt that it would be getting worse as the weeks went on and fall turned into winter.

Now as I sit on the concrete ground between the first row of bleachers and the metal railing that screaming parents would lean over yelling at the coaches during football games, a soft breeze blows across the field. It is light and chilly and... nice, mangable.

As the wind blows, it turns the fins of the anemometer on top of the field shed. It creates a constant, rustic beat that is neither too loud nor too soft. Its familiar... _rhythmic_... nice.

And as I sit there I subconsciously begin to hum along and then...

I clap twice.

Tap my pen against the railing three times.

Clap.

Patter my fingers against my thighs five times.

Clap.

Patter twice.

Tap three times.

Cl-

"Still got it sweetheart."

I freeze, quickly collecting my marble notebook and what-not off the ground into my bag.

"Don't know why ya gave it up."

"I just did," I snap as I turn to face him.

He nods his head, changing the subject. "Why did you skip out on your sixth period English class?"

"It's still fifth." I tell him in a matter-of-fact-tone.

But Haymitch shakes his head telling me otherwise. "Its three fifteen sweetheart."

I look to him muddled. Huh? What was he talking about? No. Three fifteen? No, that would mean that school was out. That would mean I skipped out on three classes. No, it was fifth, fifth period. I was in free, I was in study hall. I decided to come out to the football field to write, to be alone. It wasn't even twelve o'clock yet, right?

Confused and hazed, I turn to face Haymitch again as if he held all the answers. But instead of saying anything, he points to the field. And so turning to see what he is pointing at, I turn to see the football team doing their warm ups.

_No_, I think,_ no. It couldn't be. But... how did that happen... it wasn't fifth period... Haymitch had to bbe right... it was three fifteen. _

And as if he knew what I was thinking, he nods his head. "Bad day."

Yes. _Bad day_. And it wasn't I-have-bad-hair-types-of-days or I-rolled-of-the-wrong-side-of-bed-days either, it was something completely different. It was a bad day. I have had them for years, but in the last months they have become substantially worse. They were just days when I zoned out and time didn't exist. Yet Haymitch knew. He had seen me at my worse and best. He had seen me drunk... angry... upset... post-sex... happy... mental... sober... fazed... blubbery. He had seen me at every possible moment in my life, he knew a bad day when he saw one.

Watching me with concern, he says, "Just go see Cinna before first bell tomorrow. He said you only missed reading a few pages from some book he handed out today. Okay?"

I nod my head.

Haymitch looks at me sheepishly before sitting down on the bleachers and patting the open seat beside him. And so with nothing else to do I sit down beside him.

We don't talk following this. Haymitch blows the whistle on his keychain and shouts words and plays that I don't bother to make sense of.

Time goes by and I'm not sure how much time, but when I snap out of it, I'm sure its at least two or so hours later. The sun had become lower in the sky, closer to the horizon than before. The sky was tinted a light blue that shaded a darker blue the further it went up in the sky with soft neon highlights of orange and pink throughout. Haymitch was no longer sitting beside me, but down along the sideline of the football field talking to Patterson, Peeta, and a curly haired brunette boy that I didn't recognize.

As they talk with one another, Haymitch makes wild hand motions and gestures, pointing to areas along the field along the field I suppose. They talk for serveral minutes straight before Haymitch dismisses them, but Peeta who Haymitch grabs by the arm is held back.

Haymitch talks quickly with Peeta who obediently nods his head when Haymitch pauses looking for a response. Haymitch talks a little longer after a few nods from Peeta before taking a long pause and pointing up at the bleachers at me.

Peeta nods his head at whatever Haymitch says and Haymitch grunts only to look up at me with a smile, "Be good," and then he turns walking away. Together, no more than ten feet apart, Peeta and I watch Haymitch walk away. And it isn't till Haymitch has disappeared past the parking lot fence that Peeta speaks up.

"Um," he says holding his hand up at me as if he is telling me to stay, "Give me a minute." Then he pickes his football helmet up off the ground and begins to run toward the school, past the fence and into the door to the guys' locker room.

And the wierd thing is that I actually wait for Peeta. _I stayed_. I don't know why, but my body doesn't move nor bother to mover or even think about it. For whatever reason, I sit and wait, actually listen for once.

Minutes go by before I see Peeta emerging the school no longer in his football uniform, but a pair of jeans and a grey sweatshirt with his bookbag in hand. Out the door be begins walking in my direction. Its then that I stand, slinging my bag over my shoulder and begin to make my way to the parking lot.

I end up metting him at the fence. He smiles as we encounter one another, "You ready?"

"Ready?"

He nods his head. "Ready, to go home?"

I look to him confused. Was Peeta talking about taking me home? To his house or mine? Wait why was he offering me a ride? I had my bike, didn't he know that?

Realizing my confusion, Peeta speaks up. "Haymitch told me I was taking you home," he says running his hand through his hair, "Your bike is broken or something he said."

Still puzzled I turn to look across the parking lot under the tall oak where I parked my bike this morning. Only thing is, it isn't there.

It isn't there. What? How? I parked it there this morning. Thats how I got to school. I rode to the Hob in the morning to pick up my pay check and Sae gave me a bagel. Then when straight to school. I parked it under the oak. I couldn't understand why it wouldn't be there unless- _Shit. Shit. Shit_. Haymitch that bastard. Be good. _Be good my ass_. That dick took my bike._ Ass. Shit. Butt_.

Letting out a groan, Peeta looks to me concerned. And not wanting him to know what shit Haymitch is playing him with I clench my jaw and let out an aggravated breath.

"You okay," he asks.

I nod my head and try to do my best to act as if I'm not about to exploded. "Yeah, fine. Ready?"

...

Opening the car door, Peers steps out of the jeep. Then turning to me he looks to me as if he is waiting for me to do the same.

"Are you coming," he asks. "Haymitch said you needed some things form the bakery."

And then it makes sense. We weren't parked outside the bakery because needed to pick something before taking me home, but because _Haymitch_ told him some shit that I needed something from bakery.

Not bothering to tell him otherwise, I nod my head and step out onto the sidewalk along the bakery.

Peeta rushes around the jeep and to the bakery door, opening it for me like the polite gentleman he is. And so walking into the bakery, behind the counter is Rye. And I don't know why, but I pause at the sight of him only for second before feeling Peeta behind me and taking a step forward.

"Hey Everdeen," he smiles deviously, "How you doing?"

But before I can respond, Peeta cuts in as he jumps over the counter. "Shut it Rye."

And surprisingly he does. Yet he does give me another smile along with a wink behind Peeta who opens a brown paper bag asking, "What would you like?"

Not sure I think. "Um," I drag out, "A few egg bagels and... some cheese buns."

Peeta nods and gets right to work, filling the brown paper bag. Then when filled he folds the top and staples it shut before hopping over the counter again.

Then as he hands the bag to me I reach for my wallet only to hear Peeta's voice stop me. "Haymitch paid already."

And doing my best not to graon aloud, I clench my fist and nod my head, taking the bag in my hand.

Then heading for the door Peeta again politely opens it for me. And as I walk through the door, I look back to see Rye smiling broadly at me.

...

Peeta pulls his jeep along side the sidewalk outside my house. I'm not sure how Peeta knew where I lived, but somehow he successfully found his way here. I knew that a week ago he drove me home when Finn had his date and the wagon crapped out on him, but even with that in mind, a one time drive, I would not expect Peeta to remember where I lived without him asking a question or two. Yet when asking him, he waved it off. He said he went passed my street or something on his way to Thresh's house. And not knowing where Thresh lived I shrugged my shoulders and decided there was no reason why I couldn't believe Peeta.

So sitting outside my house, my bike is parked in the middle of the drive and some old classic rock song is playing on the radio. We sit listening, waiting silently till Peeta breaks the silence. "I'm sorry."

_What was he sorry about? _No, that was a stupid question, that boy was always sorry for things he's had nothing to do with. "Sorry?"

"About Rye," he says, "For those looks he was giving you at the bakery."

"Oh, it was no big deal Peeta."

"No, Katniss," he says sternly, "It wasn't right. It was inappropriate. He shouldn't have made those faces. I should have done something about it."

About to open my mouth to tell him otherwise, I quickly shut it.

He didn't know._ Peeta didn't know_. How did Peeta not know that his brother and I hooked up? Didn't he hear the rumors, stories about me? Wasn't that something brothers told each other, who they hooked up with?

But I mean we didn't do that much. We got handsy and that was about it. Nothing too much. And it was only a coupl times. It wasn't that big of a deal.

So keeping my mouth shut I nod my head. We sit in silence for a few moment before I realize I should go. This strapping my bag over my shoulder and taking the Mellark bakery bag in hand I give Peeta a smile. "Um, thanks."

He smiles, "Any time."

I open the door, stepping out. "Cya."

"Bye Katniss."

And then across the lawn I slip into my house and stand against the door as if I am guarding it till I hear Peeta's jeep rumbling down the street.

When I'm sure he is gone, I make my way through the house and into the kitchen where I place the Mellark bakery bag in the refrigertor beside the jar of pickles in there only after taking one of the cheese buns from the bag.

So chewing on the cheese bun, I make my through the house till I find myself standing in the doorway of my room. My room is bare. I don't know why that matters, but it is. And as I stand there I cant help, but take in how over the years as my life has become more and more empty. The more empty it become the worse my "bad days" became.

Yey today was different. It was still a bad day, but Peeta... he wasn't so bad. He was different, and in a good way.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter X

...

In the past week since my "bad day" and car ride home with Peeta, we have hung out numerous times. He came into school the next day during first period calculus and gave me an egg bagel which he brushed off like it was no big deal. He stopped by the Hob on Saturday with his father while he was making a delivery; we talked at the counter about our lit project while Mr. Mellark and Sae caught up with one another in the kitchen. Yesterday he came into class beaming, going on about how art class with Finn that whomever taught the class had submitted one of his recent works into a scholarship competition at the college of his choice.

Now in lit, Annie and Madge were talking about their plans for Thanksgiving like the rest of class. Most kids were talking about how they were going to their grandparents house or going to the infamous football game that morning versus West. Some kids were helping their mother's cook dinner while other were sadly encharge of entertaining their little cousins.

Me, I was...

"Hey," Peeta says from the desk beside me, "So, are you staying in town for the holidays?"

I nod my head yes.

Peeta smiles, "Cool, I am too."

I nod my head again. But as I don't say anything, I assume the conversation would die down yet Peeta says otherwise.

"We should hang out or something. Gloss is throwing a party a few days after Thanksgiving supposedly."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You doing anything, dinner, game or something," he asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe Gale's or Haymitch's... you?"

"The usual family dinner," he smiles, "Dad makes dinner, Rye comes home - well, he has been home for the past two weeks 'cause he got suspended - , and this year Marcus is flying in with his girlfriend."

"Sounds," I pause trying to think of the right word, "-nice."

He smiles proudly. "It is." He then pauses, looking to me his cheeks redden - blush? - as he runs his hand though his hair and ask. "If something happens with Gale or Haymitch or whatever, um... you are more than welcome to come over, for dinner... my dad loves you and well, your always welcome."

I give him a small smile yet I don't give him an answer. I don't know what I am doing for Thanksgiving, but I am_ not _going to Gale's or Haymitch's. And more than likely I won't go to Peeta's, but he's too dam kind for me to tell him otherwise.

We go on talking, or well Peeta does till the end of the period about anything from the weather to about some new art work he had gotten himself into along with describing a usually Thanksgiving with the Mellark household. And it sounded just... peachy.

...

Sitting in silence as AP Biology was just about minutes from ending, a soft buzzing comes out of the loudspeaker followed by, "Would Katniss Everdeen please come to the main office."

Confused about whether or not I was in trouble, I gathered my books off the lab table. Why was I being called down to the office? I wasn't in trouble, was I, could I be? I didn't think I was in trouble, I couldn't remember doing anything wrong. Cutting off Mrs. Allan in the parking lot didn't count as trouble.

Once all my books are gathered I glance up across my lab table to see Finn looking at me concerned and a bit of confusion. Then seeing he caught my attention, he mouthed to me, "You okay?"

I nod my head yes and he mouths, "Text me after."

I nod my head yes again turning to the door.

And as I walk out the door, I swear I feel Peeta Mellark's eyes on me. I don't turn to check though, but continue out into the hall. In a way, I don't want to know whether or not Peeta was watching me. I rather it be kept unknown cause if I did know, I didn't know how I might react.

Yet in the hall, it isn't whether or not Peeta was staring at me that bothers me, but the bareness. I can't help but realize how quiet and empty it is. It's weird, not like the usually overly crowded and obnoxiously loud halls in between classes. It was different from Peeta walking beside me or myself rushing to get to my locker. Feeling odd and out of place about walking them by myself, I hurry to the office.

So quickly making my way to the office, as I enter through the doors of the guidance offices, I come to see Miss Trinket. Miss Effie Trinket, the middle aged women who worked the front desk in guidance with blonde hair and flamboyant clothing of bright, neon colors and way too much pink eye shadow.

Then taking in a breath at her sight, I prep myself for the possibly painful conversation I may about to have as I step forward in front of her. Looking up at me, she smiled. "Katniss Everdeen?" I nod my head yes.

She smiled again, "You're in conference room one, dear."

"Am I in trouble," I ask.

She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head no. "Of course not dear, just called down for a meeting," she says, "And why would you, our valedictorian, think she is in trouble?"

_Because I nearly killed Mrs. Allan in the parking lot last week_. But instead, I shrug my shoulder.

"Well dear," she smiles, "Just go down the hall and it's the first door on the right."

Giving her one last nod of the head, I make my way down the small hall and easily find the conference room. Its as I open the door to the room that I am caught off guard when I see Haymitch sitting at the table.

"Sweetheart." He says looking up from his work.

"Haymitch," I say warily, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table of him. _Why was Haymitch here? Especially, why was Haymitch here before three o'clock? And sober looking too? What was going on?_

"So," he says awkwardly, "What are you doing on Thanksgiving?"

"Going to Gale's probably," I say shrugging my shoulder, doing my best to seem unclear and uncaring in hopes he wouldn't see through my lie.

He nods his head - convinced? -, "Okay, right." He pauses before continuing, "Well, if that doesn't work, you're welcome to come over."

I nod my head and Haymitch has nothing else to say.

We fall into an awkward silence. Haymitch drums his finger lightly against the table top while I sit in my chair with my hands in my lap. And sitting there, I have no other choice but to look at Haymitch really. He sits there, fingers drumming, hair combed, face shaved, shirt unwrinkled, and football plays spread across the table in front of him. And even though he looks put together, I know he's not, somewhere deep or maybe not so deep I know he is thriving for a drink.

We continue to sit there in silence till the bell rings and I make my move to go.

So standing up from my seat, I hold my books close to my chest with my bag over my shoulder as I step to the door. "Um," I spit out slowly, "I'll- cya."

Haymitch snasp out of his trance and nods. "Right," he says just as awkwardly, "If plans change or whatnot, come over. Okay?"

And all I can do is nod my head.

...

There was one table left at the Hob. It was some time around nine or later. I was seated at the counter, Thom had left an hour ago, and Sae was in the back doing who-knows-what.

So sitting at the counter, I tap my pen against it looking down at the blank sheet of paper of my black marble notebook, drawing a blank.

Its as I sit there that the front door opens and I look up to see Gale stepping inside. He wore his work jeans and one of his maroon _Andy's Construction_ work shirt.

As he stepped in, he looked around the room, going from the left to the right till his eyes fell on me.

"Hey Catnip."

"Hey."

"Um, can I talk to you." He says motioning to the front of the diner.

I look around the room, looking for an out, but to my dismay before I can come up with something, Sae cuts in. "Go girl. The place is dead, you're free for the night."

And as I am about to say otherwise, she cuts me off again.

"And I don't wanna hear it girl, _go_."

So without a protest, I slipped my notebook into my bag and grabbed my jacket fro under the counter. Then around the counter, Gale stepped out of the diner and I followed.

Outside, Gale leans against the building, crossing his arms across his chest. I walk to stand across from him, taking my apron off and stuffing it into my bag before slipping on my leather jacket. Then standing there, clothed and cold, I look to Gale wondering why he wanted to talk.

"Um... you're invited to Thanksgiving as always, Hazel hopes you'll come... you don't have to come though, its not mandatory... but you're invited."

I nod my head, knowing what he means. I didn't have to go and I wasn't being forced to, but Hazel wanted me to come, to make up for the last dinner I had at the house. Gale was if-y about whether or not he wanted me to come, I knew he wanted me there, but on the other hand I knew he didn't.

Speaking up, I tell him, "I can't come over, Haymitch and I are probably gonna do something."

At this he lets out a breath, relieved in a way that he doesn't have to sit through Hazel's harsh stares and friction that could be cut with a butter knife.

"Okay," he says, "Well, the day or whatever following Thanksgiving Gloss is having a party and I promised Rory I would take him, first high school party you know."

I nod my head and give him a smile, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Yeah, maybe."

And with one last look, Gale nods before walking off toward his truck I assume and I stand there, waiting till he's out of sight before making my own way home.

...

Turning over on my bed so I was no longer lying on my right side, but my left, I hear a creaking coming up the stairs. What was that? Was someone in the house?

Listening in, the creaking grows closer. Who the hell was in my house?

Quickly rolling off the bed, I reach for the metal bat under my bed. With the bat tightly gripped in hand and the creaking of the footsteps now coming down the hall toward my room, I quietly tip-toed over to behind my door. Then I waited, waited till the footsteps were right outside my door.

As I listened closely as the footsteps enter my room and I saw the back of a tall, lean male, I stepped out from behind the door. And, mid-swing, the person turned, stopping the swing as he reacted and grasped the bat before it could hit him.

Looking to see who it was, I came face to face with Finn. _Shit._

Automatically releasing the bat, I knitted my hands over the back of my head, took a step back, and began to take deep breaths.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Dropping the bat, Finn kicked it under my bed before stepping in front of me and placing his hands on my shoulders. Then he lead me over to my bed where he sat me down against the headboard. He sat across from me.

_In. Out. Breath. In. Out._ I tell myself. _Shit! I nearly killed Finn, shit!_

Continuing to do my best to control my breathing, it doesn't seem to change. Yet when Finn snaps his fingers in my face, catching my attention, I draw my concern away from my breathing. "Hey," he says, "Look at me."

And I do, I look at Finn, I focus on Finn.

"Sorry about that," he says looking at me, "Didn't mean to... you know."

I nod my head knowing.

"Well, anyway," he says getting himself back on track, "Thanksgiving. I know you're not going to Gale's or Haymitch's. You may have gotten better at lying, but I can still see right through you."

And I know he's right. Unlike Gale and Haymitch who have known me my entire life and at moments have... pitied me and let down their guard when... things in my life went... bad, Finn on the other hand had to grow to know me and one thing that required for him to do was for him to never let down his guard. Finn was always on watch, he didn't let anything get my him. And like he hinted at, in the last few months, Gale and Haymitch had let down their guard and somehow my semi-horrific lying abilities that were kind-of-not-really-getting-better was something they let go while Finn kept up on it, always knew exactly what I was doing.

"Don't tell," I speak softly through my shortening breaths.

"I won't," he promises, "Just- just don't do anything stupid._ Please_. Please, Kitty."

And he looks at the scar on my wrist and I know. He is worried, worried what I might do alone especially on a holiday as they were Prim's favorite times of the year and with my track record of being left alone and thinking of Prim, things didn't always go so..._ smoothly_.

"I won't." I state in a soft yet stern tone.

He nods. "Thank you. And if- if something does, call, please. I'll be a few hours away at Mag's sisters, but I can drive down or whatever. Okay?"

I nod my head.

"Good," he says standing up off the bed, "That's all I really came to talk about. Just wanted to make sure things were... cool."

I give him my best smile. "Things are _cool_."

He smiles back, making his way to the door. "Happy Thanksgiving Eve Kitty."

I let out another smile at his corniness and that my deep breathing had stopped. "Tell Mag happy holidays."

"I will," he says making his way through the door way.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter IX

...

Leaning against one of the porch's post, I take a drink from my third, fourth beer. The alcohol streaming through my veins its effects just starting to barely influence me, but soon enough I knew it would all come at once. Rory stood beside me and Gale had gone to get himself a drink a while ago; there was no doubt that he was probably off hanging out somewhere in Gloss's house with Andy if he was still even here.

Taking a sip of my beer, I turned to Rory, "How are you doing?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Okay. Can't really complain."

I nod my head, knowing otherwise. Rory could be _okay_, but I knew the complaining part was wrong. Yet not bothering to say anything, I down the rest of my beer. "You miss her." And it isn't a question, but a statement.

He nods his head.

In response to his nod, I looped my arm around his shoulder and draw him close to my side. And he knew what I was trying to do, I was trying to comfort him and he knew I wouldn't say or do anything more and he was okay with that.

We stayed like that in silence, leaning against one another, sipping our beers occasionally.

And as stood there, it wasn't Gale that appears in front of us after several minutes of silence, but Peeta. As he stepped in front of us, smiley as could be he said, "Hey Katniss and... Rory, right?"

Rory nodded his head, finishing off his own beer before picking another off the table nearby.

"How was your Thanksgiving?"

Rory shrugs his shoulders and I so the same, adding in, "Heard you guys won the game."

Peeta smiled again, "Yeah, forty-two to sixteen."

"Wow, nice," Rory commented.

"It was a good game, next year you'll make varsity, play the Thanksgiving game, probably be named captain being at the playing level you are on."

At this Rory's face went from a doom-and-gloom expression to some sort of happiness and at this change I can't help, but smile the slightest bit myself. Seeing Rory happy made me happy even if it was just for a few seconds. The kid was just as worse off as I was and I knew those little moments meant everything to him.

"Nah," he said as he took a drink of his beer, "Cato's brother will probably be named captain."

Peeta shook his head though saying otherwise. "No, that kids just a big of a_ dick_ as his brother. Plus Haymitch only gave Cato the title "co-captain" because he was up his _ass _nonstop."

Letting out a laugh, Peeta gives me a strange look, but I shake my head telling him it was nothing. Peeta cursing... seemed so odd, an _innocent_ child doing something so _vile._

Turning back to Rory, he was truly smiling now. Happy. What Peeta said really got to him. "Thanks Peeta." Then pausing Rory looked at the empty cup in his own hand along with the one in mine. "Drink?"

I nod my head.

And so taking my cup, Rory gave Peeta a nod and then was off into the house.

"So," Peeta says, "Thanksgiving was good?"

I nod my head and don't bother to go into details. I didn't go to Gale's or Haymitch's. I stayed in my room all day, sitting against my headboard listening to music off my phone, I filled in a few blank pages from my notebook and looked at old pictures before stuffing them away.

"How was yours," I ask.

"Great," he said, trailing on about the dinner his father cooked and Marcus's new girlfriend that he got along with as they both shared a common interest in art.

Its not till he finishes talking that I feel the full affect of the alcohol starting to overtake me _and_ realize that close to ten minutes have gone by and that Rory still wasn't back.

Telling Peeta I would be right back, I make my way into the house in search for Rory. And as I walk, I make sure I emphasized my step so I wouldn't drunkenly stumble.

In the house he wasn't in the kitchen nor the living room. But as I make my way into the dinning room, I spot him. He was standing across the room where the kegs were. He was surrounded by some junior's on the football team along with some seniors I didn't know. They surrounded him chanting as they hand him red solo cups which he gulps back.

_Oh god..._

Knowing this wouldn't end well, I make my across the room. Yet midway across, a hand grabs me by my forearm and swings me against the wall. Hitting my head hard I let out an _ouf_. Then as my head bounces back, another arm grabs me by the waist. My head hits the wall again and at this point I am being held up against the wall, stuck.

Lifting my head and blinking my eyes, my vision is blurred and head pounding. Yet through it all I make out a figure. Cato. Drunk and angry, he pulls me along the wall till we're in the hall, away from the crowd. Then stepping forward he lowers his lips, but to his dismay, I turn my face and they land on my cheek. At this he growls, gripping my waist tightly enough for bruises to form and cups my face in his hand so he is able to force me to look at him.

"You're mine," he growls, "_Mine_."

And the way he says it, a chill runs through me. _Mine_. He had never said anything like that to me before, even when we fooled around and he would say weird shit. This was different, he was drunk and angrily ranting and I felt... scarred.

Yet stuck, I try to shrink away, but he doesn't let me. Instead he presses himself against me and begins to kiss me. The longer it goes on the fiercer he becomes, kissing, biting, grabbing. I do my best to protest, squirming and whatnot, but it doesn't stop him. He just holds me tighter.

At some point his hands make his way to my shirt and I feel the tears begin to stream down my face. _No_. That's what I wanted to say, but couldn't. His hands make their way north and the alcohol become even stronger, numbing. And I... accept?

I don't know when, it could have been seconds or minutes, but Cato is pulled off of me and my legs go from under me causing me to slide down against the way to the floor.

Crying and shaking, drunk and confused, I let myself fall apart.

A figures bends down in front of me and says something. I don't catch it, but mumble something along the lines of Rory and alcohol in response.

The figure is large in-a-sorts and smells of vanilla and cinnamon The figure nods and is then wrapping me in a jacket before scooping me up into their arms. They make their way through the house and at one point stop to - yell? - at someone before continuing their way out the house. They make their way out the house, open a car door and seat-belt me in.

Next thing I know, the car is moving toward the Seam. Dried tears cover my face, my hands are shaking, and Peeta is sitting in the drivers seat of his truck... there was no Rory though, where was he and Peeta?

So looking to Peeta I stutter out, "Rr- ory?"

"Gale has him," he tells me, "They left right after us."

I nod my head. Then taking in a deep breath I ask, "Where ar- are we going?"

"I'm taking you home." And that's it, that's all Peeta says. He's sits there the rest of the drive in silence, clutching the steering wheel for dear life. He looks... mad and that is different, - frightened? - even.

So for the rest of the drive, we sit there in silence. I shake in the cover, fighting from breaking down while Peeta sits - angrily? - in the drivers seat looking over at me through the comer of his eye every now and then, making sure I'm okay.

By the time we make it to my house, I still haven't calmed down. My body is still shaking and I'm on the edge of tears. Peeta pulls his jeep into the drive before cutting the engine and coming around to take me inside.

He carries me bridal style into the house, using the key in the mailbox to open the door. Inside he flips on the hallway light, looking around.

"Upstairs," I say in a low shaky tone, "Ri- right side."

He nods, making his up the stairs and to my room.

Entering my room, he takes me straight to my bed, laying me down on top of the comforter and pulling a blanket from the front of bed over me. Then running his hand hand through his hair he looks lost. Glancing to me and then around the room, he sucks in a deep breath saying, "I'll be right back, one second."

Then he's out the door and down the hall. He's not far from the door, just a few feet, but I assume he thinks he's far enough as he calls someone up on his phone. His voice is low, but I am still able to make out most of his conversation.

"Finn."

He was calling Finn. Huh? Why was calling Finn? What did he need to talk to Finn about? Finn?

The only reason I could think of calling Finn was as if I tried to do anything Wait did Finn tell Peeta to watch out for me over break? Did he make sure to have Peeta make sure I didn't ki-

I stop myself from go any further. Instead I take in a breath and hug my body tighter. It didn't matter, Peeta was there.

"Katniss isn't okay," I hear him say. "No- no she didn't- Cato nearly ra-...

She's home now...

I punched Cato, he's out...

Gale took Rory home...

What do I- No, you don't need to come back...

Yes, no, I'm listening...

Tea and watch- no bathroom? Watch...

Yes, yes I'll call...

Okay, okay I got to- yeah call."

He hangs up and I hear him take a deep breath. I, myself, do the same.

_Was Peeta right? Was Cato really going to ra_- I stop myself from completing that sentence. I couldn't say it. I didn't want to think about it.

Cato. He could. He was strong enough, sober or drunk. He had had enough liquor in him to go along with it, morals didn't matter in his state of mind. And me. I was drunk. I wouldn't have been able to stop him. It would have- I would have been-

_No. No. No._

I start to cry, sob. I curl myself into the fetal position as if it would keep me save, stop me from crying even. My head was heavy and loopy. My fingers brush my hips where I could feel the bruises forming and my forearm was just as bad. My jaw bone hurt and my lips were swollen for sure. My cheeks were lines with wet tears and my vision was blurred.

I was breaking down. No. I was _broken_.

I am crying so badly now that I don't even realize that Peeta had entered the room again.

"Katniss," he says in a sad tone. And even though I can't see his face clearly, I know he is upset himself. I don't know why he would be upset. Why would he get upset over me? He would only be upset over me if he cared, right? And cared, why would he care about me?

Making his way over to me, he sits down on the bed so he is seated against the headboard. Then he pulls me against his chest so my face falls into the crook of his neck and he rubs circles ago my back.

"Shhh," he says trying to calms me, "I'm here, right here, I'm not going anywhere."

In that moment I feel safe in a way I have never felt before. I felt as if nothing ever bad could or would ever happen to me. I felt _safe_.

And in that moment, I clutch his shirt in my hand for dear life and in a slurred tone whisper into his chest. "St- stay."

"Always."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

...

My bones ache, my mouth dry, and head pounding. I'm balled up on my bed in a position I don't dare want to move from. Nevertheless, not wanting to move I know that its an unfortunate thought as the sun is just beginning to rise as light shades of yellow stream into my room and I feel the rays' warmth along my side. In the next hour the sun will be unbearable and lying in this direction there was no hope of me staying asleep. Yet too lazy to get up off the bed to close the blinds, I was left with the choice to turn over and face the opposite direction.

So rolling over, I feel my stomach curl and in a matter of mere seconds I am up on my feet sprinting to the bathroom. And I don't know how, but thankfully I make it in time, emptying my stomach content into the bowl and then flushing it away.

My stomach still feeling queasy, I sink down beside the toilet. My shoulder rest against the cold porcelain, legs stretched out in front of me on top of the tile floor, and my arms wrapped around my mid section. Yet when my fingers brush along my waist I flinch in pain, pulling my hands away. Confused about what was wrong, I roll my tank top up just below my chest. And looking down I see black and blue marks.

_What the hell?_

Kicking off my socks followed by my jeans and navy flannel, I use the sink counter as support to help me to my feet. And standing there in my tank top and boy shorts in front of the bathroom mirror I gasp.

_What the hell happened last night?_

Bruises were everywhere. There were black and blue hand prints along my waist and on my hips. There were small, spotted bruises scattered along my rib cage and yellow spots that I knew would sooner or later be a purplish blue. There was a large bruise that wrapped around my forearm. My lips where slightly swollen and jaw bone was yellow along the edge and underneath. My head was pounding and there was no doubt a bruise or worse somewhere along the back of my skull.

_What had happened?_

And as I stand there looking at myself, Peeta appears in the mirror's reflection behind me.

Caught off guard, I jump back. Then I spin around to face him, cornering myself in between the wall and the sink.

"Oh, woah," he says surprised, holding his hands up in surrender and taking a step back. "Hey?"

I look him up and down, but don't move.

What was Peeta _doing _here? How did he get in _here_? _Why_ was he in here?

Mind reeling, I squeeze my eyes shut and breath. _In. Out. In. Out. _I continue to mentally repeat this, "In. Out.," to myself as I do my best to concentrated.

_Okay, _I tell myself, _Peeta is here, just Peeta_. Peeta. He wasn't Cato or James or Kyle. He was Peeta, a good guy. Good guy. I take in a deep breath loosening up just a bit. Yet I only loosen up enough so I no longer standing on my toes and so that the sink counter wasn't digging into my spine, but I was still cornered and... baffled. Peeta was a good guy, but why was he- did we-

"How are you doing?" He asks me.

"Um."_ Me? Doing? I had no clue. _"Uh, why are you here... in my house?"

He gives me a strange look - worried? upset? angry? - that I couldn't tell. But taking a step toward me, his eyes look me up and down and ask, "Do you remember what happened last night Katniss?"

I shake my head slowly. "Last night?"

"Yeah," he said just as slowly as I had, nodding his head, "Last night, the party?"

I remain quiet, searching through my mind for whatever had happened last night.

Peeta continues to watch me worriedly. "The party at Gloss's with Rory-"

_Rory looked at the empty cup in his own hand along with the one in mine. "Drink?"_

_I nod my head. _

_And so taking my cup, Rory gave Peeta a nod and then was off into the house._

"Gale was somewhere in the house-"

_Rory's face went from a doom-and-gloom expression to some sort of happiness and at this change I can't help, but smile the slightest bit myself. Seeing Rory happy made me happy even if it was just for a few seconds. The kid was just as worse as me and I knew those little moments meant everything to him._

_"Nah," he said as he took a drink of his beer, "Cato's brother will probably be named captain."_

_Peeta shook his head though saying otherwise. "No, that kids just big of a dick as his brother. Plus Haymitch only gave Cato the title "co-captain" because he was up his ass nonstop."_

I back up into the corner again as the memories come back. It's a rush that-

_Midway across, a hand grabs me by my forearm and swings me against the wall. Hitting my head hard I let out an ouf... At this point I am being held up against the wall, stuck. _

_Cato... He growls, gripping my waist tightly enough for bruises to form and cupping my face in his hand so he is able to force me to look at him._

_"You're mine," he growls, "Mine."_

"Katniss," I hear Peeta say, but the another memory comes rushing back, blocking him out.

_Instead he presses himself against me and begins to kiss me. The longer it goes on the fiercer he becomes, kissing, biting, grabbing. I do my best to protest, squirming and whatnot, but it doesn't stop him. He just holds me tighter._

_At some point his hands make his way to my shirt and I feel the tears begin to stream down my face. No. _

I feel the tears beginning to stream down my cheeks, my hands begin to shake, and shoulder rise and fall as I heavily breath. "Did he- did he," I gasp out, but am unable to finish.

"No," he said shaking his head, "No."

"Wh- wha-" I stutter out. "Happ- end?"

Peeta swallows, looking away from me. "When I found you in the hall. Cato had you up against a wall. He was only... only kissing you. His hands were going, going-" He motions to the top of his chest before continuing, "I pulled him off you and knocked him down. I found Gale and got you out of there."

I nod my head shaking. _Okay. Okay. This wasn't okay_. Shaking, I wrap my arms around myself as if it would stop me from trembling. It doesn't though.

"Tea?" I hear Peeta ask.

And not even thinking or knowing why, I nod my head.

Tea, tea was good. It comforted, calmed. Tea. Yeah.

So stepping out of the bathroom, Peeta looks me up and down one more time before he heads down the stairs and to the kitchen. I on the other hand, stay where I am.

Cato nearly rap- molested me. And Peeta was there to stop it. But- but why he here now?

Still shaking and crying unknown tears, I pull down my tank top and scope my clothes off the bathroom floor and into the hamper. Then I look at myself one more time in the mirror before making my way into my own room.

And as I step into my room I can't help, but notice it looks like it always does. Its bare and in order expect for the bed who's covers are tangled and pillows shattered._ Its a mess_, I think letting out an internal laugh,_ just like me_.

And on the point of a mental breaking down, I walk over to the bed and begin make it. I tuck the sheets in and fold the comforter. I pick up the pillows and line them along the headboard. Then neat and tidy, I smirk in the weirdest way through my tears.

I was a freak. I was broken. And I had _hit_ rock bottom.

Yet shaking my head, I walk over to my closet and pull out the over-sized beige cardigan. I pull its sleeves onto my arms and wrap the lower half around my waist using my hand to keep it together.

Clothed, kind of, and as comfortable as I was going to be I go and sit Indian style in the middle of my bed. I sit there in silence. I wait. An only after a few short minutes, Peeta is back with two cups of tea.

"Here you go," he says carefully handing me a mug.

I mumble a thanks as I take it from his hands.

And there, both of us sit in silence drinking our tea.

It's after I am nearly halfway finished my cup of tea that I speak up. "Did we-"

"No," he says cutting me off, "We didn't."

"Oh," I say slowly nodding my head, "So um... why did you stay?"

He looks at me wide-eyed. "I wasn't going to just drop you off and leave you Katniss. We're friends Katniss, we watch out for one another and make sure they're okay. I care about your well-being. I wasn't going to let you be alone in your state."

I remain silent for some time after what Peeta said. We were friends. He cared, Peeta actually cared. I knew he was more than just the ordinary decent human being, but I suppose I never picked him out to stay with someone, a girl he had only known a little over a month, to make sure they were okay when they were probably hysterically dru-

_Shit, I was drunk last night. Shit_.

Looking from my mug and then to Peeta I ask in a low tone, "Did I say anything last night?"

And catching my drift he nods his head. "Um, yeah."

"What." I demand.

"You said something along the lines of that you would trade places for Rory's sake... mumbled about your head hurting off and on... said you _liked_ my cheese buns... and um, you apologized to her."

_Her... Prim._

He continues, "You would go on about Prim, but after a minute or two you would switch subjects. You said some other stuff abo-"

I cut him off before his sentence. "I said her name?"

He shook his head. "You said "Little Duck.""

_Little Duck_. That was my nickname for her. _My_ name. I was the only one who called her that. Not many people knew I called her that either, Gale and Rory, Finn and Haymitch, and... and that was it.

Looking to him confused I ask, "How did- how did you know I was talking about her when I said that."

"She was in the art program I helped run on Tuesdays and Thursdays during school last year. She was a smart kid," he smiled, "She talked about you a lot, she looked up to you. You were the big sister that she loved and bragged about, said you could do anything. She mentioned the nickname you gave her a few times."

I clutch my mug, looking down. "I wasn't that great of a sister."

"She would say otherwise, you were the perfect older sister."

I don't tell him differently, but to myself I know. I wasn't the best sister. I had failed her. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to give her the life she wanted. I wasn't able to give her what she deserved. I wasn't a lot of things. Yet Peeta didn't need to know those things, they were for me. But who knew what was in store for me, at this rate, maybe they wouldn't be just for me and maybe they would be shared with others. And then maybe Peeta would know who I really was, he would see me as I saw me and like last night he wouldn't have stayed.

So remaining silent we finish our tea, the sun rises, and time ticks by.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter XIII

…

The next few weeks go by fast and... slow. And as Thanksgiving has passed, Christmas quickly approaches, just weeks away. The weather has gone from chilly to cold and any day now it's about to snow.

In the past weeks, I for the most part have stayed out of sight, as far from society as possible. I have avoided Cato and James and Marvel and whoever else fell under them. I stayed away from Gale as well after running into in the halls on Monday and having a bit of a "dispute." I sit in the back of my classes and leave school grounds during my frees. I spend as much time as possible in the kitchen when working at the Hob. And on weekends I don't go out, no football games or hang outs with Finn or parties or dinners at Hazel's.

The only thing I really did do was spend some time with Peeta. Since the party, he had been very... careful around me.

Now sitting in the back of the bakery, I scribble in my marble notebook while waiting on Peeta to finish up his shift. He had asked me after school today if I wanted to work on our project. And me having the day off from the Hob with nothing else to do and stupidity beyond belief agreed.

So here I was sitting in the back office waiting on him to finish up. He had offered to let me hang out in the front with him, but Rye was out there and as he fell under the Cato category, I shook my head and told him I had some homework to do.

Subsequently as I sit there with my feet on the edge of the chair, knees close to my chest, scribbling in my book, I hear the door open behind me. So shutting my notebook immediately, I turn not to see Peeta, but Mr. Mellark, the future version of Peeta when he was in his fifties.

"Oh, hi Katniss," he said surprised, "How are you?"

"Um, good," I lie, just as caught off guard just as much as him, "Uh, you?"

"Can't complain," he says with a smile, "The bakery has been keeping me busy... Um, are you waiting on Peeta?"

I nod my head.

"Well," he says grabbing a recipe book off the shelf above what is his desk I suppose, "Come on, I'll take over Peeta's shift and let you two go."

And like with Peeta, I don't dare protest.

I stand up off the chair, slipping my notebook into my bag and I follow Mr. Mellark out to the front of the bakery.

"Peeta," he says as we enter the room, "You're good to go, get your homework done."

Nodding his head, Peeta finishes up with the customer he had been helping before exchanging his apron for his book bag and jacket.

Then ready to go, I nod a goodbye to Mr. Mellark as I follow Peeta back through the kitchen.

And as we make our way out the backdoor, I hear Mr. Mellark call out after us. "And Peeta, Finn had stopped by the house looking for you. He said he'd be stopping by the house again today, he has to talk to you about something."

...

As I suspected, Peeta lived between the Village and the Seam. He lived in the nice part of town where the suits and merchants lived. His home was an old Victorian with a porch and a garden and a yard, something I found very... Peeta-ish.

So after following Peeta's jeep to the home, I pull up along the sidewalk where I park my motorcycle. Then sliding off the bike, I met Peeta at the door. And the gentlemen he is, he opens the door and allows me to proceed before him.

"Food? Drink? Something?" He asks as he leads me through the home, down a hall lined with pictures and through a large living room that just seems... homey. He leads me through the house to the kitchen which is larger than the living room. The room I'm sure is no doubt a baker's heaven with a six burner stove, pots and pans hanging from above an island in the middle of the room, a refrigerator that could be the size of two, and other kitchen supplies and appliances that I couldn't tell what they were or their use.

"Um, water?" I say in a questioning tone.

"Nothing to eat?"

I shake my head no.

"Okay." He says as he places his backpack on the counter and drapes his jacket over top of it. Then he reaches for the refrigerator door, opening it and taking two water bottles from the side shelf. He closes the door and then reaches and grabs a plastic, tray of store bought chocolate chip cookies from above the refrigerator.

He hands me a water, taking a seat beside me at the counter. "It's cool if I eat," he says motioning to the cookies, "We got food, so if you want anything just asks."

I nod my head.

He gives me a small smile before getting to work.

I drink my water and Peeta does the same while snacking on a few cookies as he tells me his plans for the project. His best and favorite idea is to make a scrap book of a sort. We would get a notebook and paste our index cards onto the pages along with pictures and whatnot. And truly I like the idea; it's simple and nicely displayed and in general would work well.

It's as Peeta excuses himself to go get the index cards he had already started on from his room that I hear the backdoor open and as casual as possible Finn walks in.

"YO PEE- oh yo, hey kitty," he says surprised when his eyes fall on me. "What you doing here?"

And as I open my mouth to respond, Peeta comes down the stairs to answer his question. "Cinna's project."

"Oh, gotcha. Annie is working on that thing with Madge. You have to explain life's purpose or something, right?"

I nod my head and Peeta does the same. "What's up," he asks.

"I need you to do me a favor," he begins and I know whatever he is asking Peeta to do that it's probably not a good thing. "I need you to go with Snow Ball with me. Well not with me, I'm going with Annie, but you need to find a date and come."

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't want to be alone."

"You'll be with Annie." Peeta retorts.

"I need you man. Don't make me go alone. What if I do something stupid or can't remember how to dance or - or I don't know."

"You'll be fine."

"But what if _I _mess it up."

And in that moment I realize as I had before when Finn had called me up to fix his car that he really likes Annie. Finn had never been jumpy or nervous about going out with a girl. He never needed wing-man. He dealt on his own and he was always cool. He knew how to get a girl's attention and he knew how to use it to his benefit. But with Annie, it was different. With Annie, Finn seemed as if he had never been a relationship or kissed a girl or even talked to girl. He was like one of those stereotypical school boys who would have the biggest crush on the head cheerleader. He was in some serious shit. He didn't know how to act or what to say. And I'm sure Peeta realized this because when I glanced over to him he looked hooked. Peeta knew he had to go to the dance, he knew if he didn't and something happened it would be something he would never be able to live down.

Peeta lets got an exaggerated grain, "_Who_ will even go with me?"

And at this, Finn's eyes land on me.

"Oh no, no. You know I don't do dances. No." I say straightening up in my seat to look at him.

"Please." He begs.

"No."

"Kitty-"

"No Finn."

"Come on, I did that marathon for you last year, go to a dance for me."

"Finn-"

"Please, kitty," he pleads, "Three, four hours tops. You don't even have to wear a dress or whatever. Peeta won't care. I need my two there. Just- _please_."

And there it is. Finn's trap. First the friend card. Now the dam marathon. And shit, the begging. I was caught, stuck, doomed.

I shut my eyes and breathe in. Then I breathe out, "I'll _think _about it."

And I know there is no doubt a smile plastered on Finn's face. "Okay," I hear him say as I listen in as his footsteps back away. "Okay, I can deal with that. So I think and a yes. I can deal with that guys, you're the-" But he doesn't finish his sentence or we don't hear the last of it as the back door opens and closes at his departure, cutting him off.

Minutes to by before I open my eyes again and look to see Peeta still standing there in silence across from me.

"You don't have to go with me," he says sheepishly, blushing, "I mean if you're going and want a date I'll take you, but you have to feel obligated to go because of me. But- but if you want to go, you don't have to go with me. You could go with whomever or not at all. You could..."

He trails on till he ends up repeating himself for a third time, runs out of breath, and so that his cheeks are flushed a rosy red.

I, I just look at him and say, "I'll _think_ about it."

And he just understandingly nods his head and we return back to our work.

...

It had been a few days since Finn sprung the Snow Ball plead on Peeta and I.

Since then it had been silently decided. I was going. I was going to the Snow Ball dance. There's no doubt. Finn had me trapped me again. I owed him for making him train and run in the annual marathon held by the Smith & Jone's Electric Company in the city last spring.

Sure I still had to tell him I was going, but he knew.

So I was going to Snow Ball... with Peeta.

Joy.

Letting out a groan, I pull myself off my bed and over to my closet.

A dance inquired a dress or skirt. Something _nice_. And no matter what Finn said, I couldn't wear whatever. Jeans and a sweater didn't count as _nice_. Effie would have my head if I showed up in jeans and a t-shirt. Not only would she not allow me into the dance, but she would give me a whole talk about manners and proper educate and the entire fandasco.

So dress or skirt. That's what I needed. And with my wardrobe, that was going to shit hard to figure out.

I had... I had neither. The best I had that even came close to a dress or shirt was the simple black jumper with grey stitching and buttons I had. When I wore that I always wore my grey, black leggings and black flats.

I couldn't wear that thought. And it wasn't because of Effie, but because the last time I wore it was at Pri- Prim's funeral and since then I had buried it away in the back of my closet and have refused to touch, look or even think about it. Anything related, connected or seemingly relevant to Prim I have cut out of my life and swore to myself I never ever look back on. I just couldn't.

So turning away from my closet, I walk over to my bed snatching my phone off where it rested on its sheets before walking out my room. Then down the hall and around to the steps, I took a seat at the top before tapping the phone's screen and hitting call.

The phone only rings two times before a voice picks up on the other end. "Kitty?"

"I have nothing to wear."

"What are your sizes?"

"Finn-"

"I won't. Annie will. She has to get something for the dance too."

"Finn-"

"I'll go with her. Make sure whatever she buys is something you'll wear."

"_Finn_-"

"I promise it wouldn't be something bedazzled or glittery kitty."

"You don't have to buy me clothes; I'm not some charity case. _I_ can buy my own clothes."

"I know you're not," he tells me sincerely. "But I'm making you go to the dance and I'm already going out with Annie to get something for it so let me buy you an outfit."

"Finn-"

"Just give me your fucking size kitty," he groans.

And I give in, "_Fine_."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter XIV

…

If I haven't learned my lesson, I sure as hell have learned it now. _Never_ let Finn have _any say _in my apparel _ever._

It was a little over two hours ago that he had stopped by the house with a shopping bag. Annie was with him. She explained to me what they had found and had apologized if I didn't like it.

I told her that I was sure it was fine and she gave me a small smile. Finn looked giddy as shit and now I knew why. Nevertheless, Annie and I talked for a few minutes and she recommended that we should hang out sometime together as she was dating one of my closest friends and we had never spent more than just a few minutes together. And for Finn's sake along with the fact that Annie was a quiet, laid-back person I nodded my head in agreement.

So they left and I took a shower and that was what had brought us to now.

I stood in the bathroom looking at my reflection. I wore a black "tulip bandage skirt" as Annie had called it which came to my mid-thigh and clung to my skin with a light, shaded orange collared black button down shirt whose front I had tucked into the skirt and let the back hang lose as it half covered my ass. I wore black eyeliner with mascara and some smoky eye-shadow that Annie had suggested as she had packed a small assortment of makeup in the shopping bag along with the outfit. My hair was in its usual braid, side bangs wavy, and few strands of hair sticking out here and there.

And sure it was nice, I did like it. But I felt like if I were to bend over or take a long stride my ass would be on display for the whole world to see. Plus the skirt being skin tight didn't help the idea me mooning the world as when I moved it seemed to ride up my legs. Yet I should suppose the shirt made up for it as it was loose fitting and comfy... and it did cover part of my ass.

But...

I looked like a completely different person. It was as if I had undergone a complete transformation. I was... girly and... fashionable?

I didn't know if this was Finn's doing or Annie's or a collaboration of both, but whatever they had done had done something. I wasn't that girl in the dark jeans and "vintage" t-shirts anymore. I wasn't that girl that sat in the back of class. I wasn't that girl that was overlooked in the halls and only looked to in a time of desire.

I was the complete opposite. I was someone that would be noticed, I looked… pretty?

Looking at myself one more time before I turn, shutting off the lights and heading downstairs. In the hall before walking out the door I pull on my black flat lace-ups, wrap my scarf around my next, and pull my coat onto my arms.

Then the next thing happening, I'm out the house and roaring down streets toward in the direction of Peeta's.

...

"Oh, come on," Mr. Mellark pleads, "One picture, just one."

We all seem to groan at this, but Annie who stands there silently giving a small smile that barely shows her teeth.

"One?"

"One picture." Finn bargains, wrapping his arms around Annie's waist and pulling her against his chest. "_Just _one."

Mr. Mellark smiles in agreement.

They look like a couple, Annie and Finn, a real couple. Annie wearing a simple sea green dress and Finn a shirt and tie to match. Finn pulls her close, holding protectively and fervently. She rests her hands over his around her waist and leans her head against his chest. They fit perfectly, as if they are puzzle pieces. They smile and Mr. Mellark snaps a picture.

"Okay," he says smiling, "Peeta and Katniss?"

"Dad-" He pleads, but Mr. Mellark cuts him off.

"One picture Peeta, I'm sure Katniss won't mind," he says looking to me with hopeful eyes, "I don't have any picture of you kids especially 'cause you never went to any dances."

Peeta groans and looks to me to see what I have to say. And seeing there was no real choice I nod my head okay.

Mr. Mellark smiles, "Just one, I promise and then you can go."

Nevertheless, Peeta nods his head and we walk over to the fireplace where Finn and Annie had gotten their picture.

And like Finn and Annie, I suppose Peeta and I match too. Peeta wore a black collared shirt with a pair of khakis and a pair of black, leather shoes. His hair was gelled up a bit and his jaw was prominent tonight. He looked… handsome. He matched, I supposed, with me. His black shirt and my black skirt playing off one another.

So over to the fireplace, Peeta stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist like Finn had done to Annie. I clasp my hands over his and lean back against his chest. Leaning his head down I hear him whisper, "You look beautiful," and I can't help, but feel my cheeks turn the slightest shade of red.

And then and there I can't help but feel... right. I feel safe as I had felt weeks ago when he had held me close and I cried into his shirt. I felt welcome as Peeta was okay with me being there in his arms. And I felt warm, warm as if something inside me sparked and had ignited something good, needed. It all just felt... right?

"Smile," Mr. Mellark said.

And so smiling, I felt Peeta give my waist a soft squeeze and I squeezed his hand back. Mr. Mellark snapped the picture and I continued to smile.

…

I had never gone to a school dance and now I understood why. One, there were too many people. Two, I didn't know half the music that was playing. Three, because I refuse to "grind" or allow some creep to rub against me. And I suppose that's why Peeta never came to the dances either.

So as Peeta and I sit on the bleachers Finn and Annie were somewhere in the crowd on the gymnasium floor dancing.

Leaning into Peeta's side, he knocks his knee against mine. "Why did we agree to this?"

I laughed, "Because Finn's an ass."

Peeta laughed. And I did too. We laughed together and no doubt probably looked like idiots, I leaning into Peeta and Peeta hooking his knee under mine.

It was as our laughter died that Cato walked by us accompanied by Glimmer, Marvel, and Clove. His eyes were fixed on me and his lips were formed into a devious smirk. And as he walked by a chill ran through me. Fear. He raised his eyebrows at me with his devious smile and under his breath I don't know if it was my imagination or reality, but I swore I heard him say, "Mine."

And as he walked by, I felt Peeta's arm wrap around my shoulder. Peeta, he was here. Peeta, he was a good guy. Peeta, he cared.

Yet as a consequence to Peeta protectively wrapping his arm around me, Cato's eyes left me only to flicker to Peeta. Anger overtook his expression and I couldn't help, but shrink further into Peeta's side. Cato shot him a glare and Peeta stood his ground, holding me close to his side.

And after a few seconds, Cato had passed and it was over. I let out of the breath I didn't know I was holding and Peeta gave my shoulder a squeeze.

"You okay?" He asks looking down at me.

I nodded my head and he gave me another squeeze.

We sat in silence for a bit before Peeta started up another conversation. Then in no time, we were talking and Peeta was even making me laugh at his corny jokes. It was as were talking that Peeta cut himself off, knocking his knee against mine. "Oh hey… I _love_ this song," he said blushing, "Would you um, do you want to dance to it?"

And being his "date" to this dance and seeing him blushing like a child I said in a small tone, "Um, sure."

So stepping off the bleachers, Peeta lead me to the middle of the gymnasium. We swayed, pumping our fist in the air every so often and jumped up and down on the bawls of our feet to the beat of the song. Nonetheless just as fast as we gotten out there the song seemed to end in such a short time as the DJ switched off to a slow song and the couples surrounding us looped their arms around one another and began to sway to the beat.

Then there were us, us standing there in the middle of it all. Awkward. And looking around it looked as if there was no escape. Awkward.

Clearing his throat, Peeta asked, cheeked reddened. "Would you dance with me?"

And as awkward as could be, I slowly nodded my head.

Peeta looped his arms around my waist, intertwining his hands together just above my ass and I hung my arms around his neck. Then slowly we began to sway. Our chests were just about pressed against one another, an inch away, and my head rested under his chin. And the longer we swayed the closer we became.

As we swayed, I hummed along to the song and Peeta's finger tips would brush against the tale of my braid.

And as the beat seemed to slow even more so than it already was, I felt Peeta's nose brush down against my hairline causing me to look up. And when I did look up, he was right there. _Right there_. His blue orbs stared into my grey and in that moment I seemed stuck and I was sure Peeta was too. But we continued to move closer. And then, I could feel his breath on my lips and I wasn't sure what was happening, but whatever it was, I whispered in the smallest tone, "Peeta?"

It was then in that moment he brought his lips down on mine. Our lips connect timidly. My grip around his neck tightened along with his grip around my waist till I felt him flushed against me. I gasp at the closeness, the need. The kiss goes from immature to... passionate? And as his hand grasp my waist I knew he felt it too, the craving. Yet soon enough the kiss was just not enough, too simple. It escalated quickly. He ran his tongue along my bottom lip seeking entrance. And I allowed it. _I_ allowed it. So parting my lips, our tongues meet. And he was nothing like James or Gloss or whomever. But he was different, good, better. He stirs that spark inside me I felt earlier and I can't help, but enjoy the warmth it fills me with. My fingertips run along the edge of his hairline and he wraps me in his arms.

Minutes, second, hours ago by till we pull apart. And when we do we're both gasping for air as we cling to one another.

Bowing my head, I rest it against his rising and falling chest.

_Fuck me. _


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter XV

…

Since the kiss, Peeta and I have been... the same yet different?

I thought the kiss would have changed everything, _everything_. But it wasn't like how it was with Gloss or Cato. It wasn't a needed or an action or uses. It wasn't just a kiss. The kiss was just… right.

Since the kiss things were the same, but different. We hung out in school during school, at his house, at the Hob and we would make out, I don't know it happened, but at some point, his lips found mine or the other way around. We just kind of were always around each other. But beside _all _that, everything had been the same.

And since my kiss with Peeta, the dance, Annie had recently befriended me and at the moment was sitting across from me at the Hob. As I worked behind the counter she did homework and picked at her dinner. That was Annie, silent, shy, quiet, and smart. I liked her, we got along. She was simple, I was simple and it worked. We didn't have to talk or always have to be doing something; we were perfectly fine with the silence.

As she works on pre-calculus I heard the door open and in walked Haymitch followed by Father Emil.

Giving me a smile, Emil pointed to a table across the room and Haymitch nodded in agreement.

And as they walked over to their chosen table I can't help, but feel confused. What did I just see? Was Haymitch here, out in public that didn't deal with football? Was he eating with Emil, _too_? What was happening? Was the world ending, that'd make sense by Haymitch was out and with a member of the religious order, right?

Questioning the subject, I tell Annie I have a table as I grab two glasses of water and two menus. Then across the diner, I come to their table. "Hey," I say setting their glasses of water in front of them, "How are you doing?"

Haymitch raised his eyebrows at me and Emil smiled, "Good, how's school?"

"Okay," I say, "How's the parish?"

"Good, great," he smiled, "The Christmas Bizarre is next week, Sister Teresa is baking cookies."

I smile. "What can I get you," I ask.

"The usual," Emil says refusing a menu.

I nod my head and turn my attention to Haymitch.

"Whatever the stew of the day is." He says in a gruff voice.

"Bread?"

"Mellark's?"

I nod my head and he lets out a grunt that I take as a yes.

Nodding my head again, I take the unused menus and head back to the kitchen. Then back behind the counter I clip the order slip to the service window and tap the bell to let Thom know there is something for him to do.

Annie continues to do homework and eat her tomato and spinach sandwich. Haymitch and Emil's order is served and Annie finishes her sandwich and fries. Table ten, six, seven, and thirteen leave. Annie orders one the lemon tarts and Haymitch waves me over to his table when Emil leaves only after coming for to say goodbye.

So walking over to his table, he pats the seat beside him.

"Haymitch-" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"You have the Moteno's and that friend of yours, no one is in need of being served; you can sit down for a moment."

And so letting out an exaggerated breath, I take a seat.

"Haven't seen you around sweetheart, where have you been?"

"Busy."

"Mh hmm," he grunts, "So do I want to ask if the rumors are true?"

I look down away from his eyes and don't respond.

"Did that ass-"

But I cut him off, sternly saying, "_Haymitch_."

And he looks at me, taking in my stance and nods, dropping the subject. Yet I know he's till questioning it in his head.

"So what about Mellark?"

"Peeta?" I ask cautiously afraid he knew about the kiss.

"Hm," he grunts, "How's that project or poster or whatever the hell that thing you two are doing for um, um-"

"Lit."

He grunts again. Yes.

"How'd you even know about that," I say knowing I had never mentioned the project to him.

"The boy talks."

Peeta talked about me? _Me_? Why would he talk about me in the locker room? We weren't some "dirty secret" - unless the kiss? Yet would he still even talk about that? It was a kiss, a good kiss, but is that something he would really talk about? Wait, why talk about me to begin with?

"Likes you," he says.

And I can't help but snort, "Right."

Haymitch rolls his eyes and continues. "And what about that Hawthorne boy?" He asks.

I raise my eyebrows, "What about him?"

"Well, the little one says he hasn't seen you around and the older one is sitting at the counter next to the pretty boy and that friend of yours and he can't help, but glance over here every thirty seconds."

I glance over my shoulder to see Finn picking at Annie's plate and Gale sitting at the counter still in his work clothes.

I turn back and give my shoulders a shrug.

"Hm," he grunts, "From what heard, he made a bit of a scene the other week in the halls about you."

I look down at my palms. He had. That week after the party he had come in and called me a slut. Said I that I let anyone have a run at me. Said I let Peeta take me. Said I didn't give a shit about myself. Said I didn't give him a shit about him. Said I was a fuck. Said I was a slut. And the whole time while he ranted I didn't say anything; I let him tell me off, I let him say whatever he wanted without a protest.

I shake my head and Haymitch nods his head.

"Well," he says placing a couple bills on the table, "I know there not much more to say or that you want to hear… Just take care of yourself sweetheart, stop by sometime."

I nod my head and he gets up to leave.

I sit there for a few seconds till Haymitch is gone before standing up and clearing the table. Then back behind the counter, I place the dishes in the service window and turn my attention to Gale.

"Hey," he says blandly.

"What can I get you?"

"Katniss," he says, "don't-"

"What can _I_ get you?" I repeat.

"A minute of your time," he snaps angrily.

And I cross my arms over my chest and wait.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I'm _really_ sorry. I did it again. I fucked up. I fucked everything up. I just- I'm just really sorry. And shit I understand if you don't want to talk to me or hate me or whatever. But I had to come and tell you how sorry I was for fucking up our friendship."

I shake my head.

"I fucked up."

"_You_ called me a slut."

At this he freezes. Paralyzed. He hadn't expected me to say it, but… I did.

I shake my head. "I know I have told you I don't feel or want to and I haven't felt anything in a long while, but I _felt_ that Gale."

"Katniss-"

"I felt it, Gale," I say on the edge of tears, shaking my head as I looked him in the eyes, "And- and I don't know, it hurt."

"Catnip-" He says, but I cut him off.

"No, no Gale."

"Cat-" But he stops, seeing me shaking my head, arms holding myself together, tears about to overflow.

And he sits there for a moment longer before nodding his head himself. Then he stands up off his seat and turns to step to the door. Yet halfway he stops himself only to turn back to face me.

"I'm sorry," he says, truthfully speaking, "I'm really sorry I fucked up Katniss."

And then taking in a deep breath, he nodded his head and looked to me as if he was expecting me to respond. Yet he knew otherwise and faltered at giving me a smile as he turned and proceed to and out the door.

Then he's gone and I felt alone. Standing there, I turn away from the door to see Annie and Finn cautiously watching me.

We stare at one another in silence till Annie speaks up.

"You're not a slut Katniss," she says in a small tone.

And I looked to her surprised, stupefied. The girl who was uneasy about Finn's sex life had just told me I wasn't a slut. I considered myself worse than Finn. No, I _was_ worse than Finn. I had done the double, maybe triple amount of shit Finn had done in his life in mine over the span of just months. Hell, everyone knew I was slut.

She looked me in the eye and shook her head. "You're not."

And hearing Annie say that made thing… kind of better. Yet I still knew who I was and that was why Gale's words did sting. I had given myself away. I had given up on myself. I didn't give a shit. I was a slut.

But hearing Annie say that even though I knew it was false made me the slightest bit better about myself.

So nodding my head in thanks, I swiped my eyes of my unknown tears.

Finn gave me a sad smile, "Hey, I'll take over your shift. I'm sure Sae won't mind and Thom will be cool with it. I got you, go home."

So nodding my head I agree. Then subconsciously, I grab my bag and make my way out from around the counter. I give them a small nod as I pass and then don't look back when I walk out.

Outside the air is cold and there is a slight wind. The sky is dark and starless. Small specs of white, snow I suppose, breeze through the air. The streets are dead and the one streetlight on the counter flickers to stay alight. I make my way around to the side of the Hob where I had parked my bike.

And when reaching it, I sit down on the seat and take in a breath.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen. I live in the Seam. I go to school at Capitol Hill. I am top of my class, valedictorian. I drink. I sleep around. I'm a slut. I don't really care... kind of. _

_I had two friends before. Now I have one friend, Finnick Odair. I don't know where Gale Hawthorne stands in my life anymore. He told me he loved me and I slept with him, but then he said something's that… I don't know. I love him, but not in the way he wants me to. I don't know how he feels about me now and… I don't know how I feel about him now though. _

_Then there's Peeta Mellark. We're friends? He kissed me and we have kissed since. Since him I haven't done anything with anyone else. He's working on a literature project with me. He's nice and kind and smells like vanilla… and I like that about him. He's changed things in my life… and I don't know how I feel about them. _

_The house I live in is empty. Prim is dead. Dad is dead. Mom is gone. I don't what I'm doing or where I'm going. This is me, this is my life._


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter XVI

…

"Remember that after break you will start to piece together and build your own car engine so I recommend looking over your notes and the last two chapters of the textbook," Beetee says as the last few seconds of class tick by. And as the bell rings he just about shouts, "Have a good break and be _safe_!"

So up and out of their seats, the class files out except for Finn and I who wait as the others struggle out the door and into the crowd halls.

When the doorway is cleared, Finn steps forward, "I'll see you on New Year's Eve, right?"

"Yeah," I say adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder.

"Cool," he says stepping to the door, "Have a good Christmas kitty."

I nod my head, "Tell Mag Merry Christmas."

"I will," he promises.

And as I am about to follow him out I hear Beetee.

"Katniss," he says stopping me in my tracks, "A minute please."

Finn gives me a small smile of luck before exiting the room, no doubt going off to find Annie. I take a breath and turn to face Beetee. I offered him a thin smile and he takes that as his cue to continue.

"Katniss," he says taking a seat on the stool that sat behind the podium at the front of the class, "Myself and a few other teachers have come to the conclusion and nominated you for a student scholarship. The scholarship is a honor and pays for the students tuition to any four-year university. Each year, from Capitol Hill we elect one student. The student elected is found highly academically ranks, a participant in extracurricular activities, and well-rounded member of the community. This year we chose you."

I look to Beetee confused. _They chose me? _Me?

"I'm not _any_ of those things Beetee."

"What do you mean you're not any of those things? Of course you are or else we wouldn't have chosen you. You're first in your class, you're conference champ in track and field, and everyone knows you as well as respects you in the community."

"I'm not." I whisper and Beetee just shakes his head.

"You are though Katniss," he tells me, "You are first in your class. You took our track & field team to states for the first time four years ago since the eighties. You managed our school newspaper and literary magazine for three years. You work at the Hob where you talk and socialize with at least half of the community. You volunteer around the town helping run the walk-a-thon and book sale along with leading some of those nature hikes in the woods. You took care of your sister-"

And at the mention of Prim I cut him off. "Beetee."

Beetee most realize he had crossed a line because he doesn't press further. He just looks down, shaking his head before looking back up at me. "I just thought you should know that you have been nominated for the scholarship, it's an honor Katniss"

I nod my head politely and he gives me a smile.

"You can go Katniss. Have a good break."

I nod my head again, quickly making my way from the class and through the halls. And with Beetee's words running through my head, I don't even process Peeta standing beside my locker. It's not till I hear his voice that I snap out of it. "You okay?"

"Uh," I say surprised, "Um, yeah."

"Okay." He says cautiously, not convinced. "Will I see you later?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Ah maybe, I have to go drop off some Christmas gifts."

"Okay," he says again. Then leaning down, he kisses me and I can't help, but feel that spark. I kiss him back, needing that spark, that warmth. His hands go to my hips and mine to his shoulder and we make out. Yet we pull apart before we get too caught up in the moment and it's when we pull ourselves apart that I can't help but smile, Peeta too.

"I'll call."

"Okay." I say breathlessly.

…

The snow is picking up as I park my bike outside Hawthorne residence. I make my way up the drive and stomp my boots off at the front mat before entering the house.

Hazel wasn't home and neither was Gale. Exactly as I had planned it.

When I enter the house I make my way into the living room to see Vick teaching Posy how to play chess. The eleven year old was convinced he could teach his six year old sister to play the game as well as him to have a competitive defendant because Rory and Gale refused to play.

So standing in the doorway, I watch as Vick instructs Posy to move her queen so his wouldn't be able to take in the next move.

And it's after Posy makes her move that I step into the room, making myself known. And at my entrance, Posy's head snaps up at me and she comes barreling toward me, latching onto my leg while Vick stand up and takes a few steps so he is only a foot from me. I give him a smile and pull him into an awkward side hug.

After a moment we pull apart.

"I know it's a few days from Christmas," I say squatting down to Posy's level, "But I figured why not bring your gifts over now."

Posy brightened up like a Christmas tree and Vick's face broadened into a wide smile.

"Here," I say pulling a newspaper wrapped gifts from my bag. The heavy, rectangular one I pass to Vick and the long slender one I hand to Posy.

The moment the gifts are in their hands, they tear them apart. Posy's eyes widen and her jaw drops. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she cries hugging me tight.

I can't help, but smile, giving her a squeeze back before she releases her grip on me and walks back over to where she was sitting with Vick and begins the new Barbie doll out of its case.

Then looking up, I come see Vick. He gives me a smile, clutching the book he had been ranting on since the summer that he wanted to read. It was some rare book about stars and dark matter and stuff that his science teacher had told him about. "Thanks Katniss," he smiles.

"No problem," I say standing up, "Where's the other one?"

"In his room."

I nod my head stepping to the hall. "Get reading."

And giving me a smile, he goes to sit back down across from Posy. I smile at them before walking down the hall and up the stairs to room Rory and Vick share.

Knocking on the door I don't wait on a response before I enter. And there lying across his bed, Rory lays with his eyes closed staring up at the ceiling.

"Vick," he says, "I told you to leave me alone. I'm not going to play chess with you."

"Maybe you should play with him, Posy still hasn't mastered the skill that's ponds can only move one space."

Opening his eyes, he sits up to look at me. "Katniss."

I smile, walking over to sit beside him of the bed. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Can't I stop by?"

He looks to me, rolling his eyes. "You and Gale aren't you and Gale anymore."

"Gale's not here."

He smiles, "What are you doing here?"

"Christmas," I say holding a white envelope out toward him.

The envelope was from Prim. I don't know what was in it, but Rory's name was written on it. Prim's nurse had found it in the table beside her bed along with some of her sketches and books. There was a post-it on it that read Christmas. I assumed that mean it was her gift to Rory.

Slowly taking the envelope into his hands, he examined it, tracing his fingertips over the hand written letters of his name.

"It's from her." I say answering the question he had not asked.

He makes no movements, but just stares at the envelope for a few minutes, taking in the last of her, before he reaches for the end corner of the envelope and tears it open.

He pulls out a piece of white paper and unfolds it. I see a few slips of something fall from inside the folded paper, but I can't tell what it is nor do I ask. We sit in silence. Rory reads whatever Prim had written and takes the pieces of whatnot that were inside the letter and put them together. He creates one of those foam airplanes that you can win at arcades or buy at dollar store. After creating the airplane he finishes the letter before sitting back against the wall. He holds the plane in the palm of his hand and folds the letter away. He sits there smiling, allowing one stray tear escape.

And before I can ask, he looks to me and smiles. "I'll be okay."

"Promise?"

"Yeah," he says, "I will."

I nod. Whatever Prim had written I was glad. Rory had finally convinced me, convinced me he was going to be okay. I knew he would make it, but I knew it would take some help. Prim was that help, that girl he fell for, that one he loved, that one who could make him laugh and smile, that one he would never forget. And knowing Rory would be fine meant a lot to me. The kid had a life, he had to live it.

And as I shift to get off the bed, Rory speaks. "That, this airplane was the one I had won her at the county fair when we were eight and you and Gale had just become friends… I begged Gale to let me go. He nearly didn't take me, but mom told him had to... God, I'm so glad mom made him take me... It's, the planes from the first time we met. "

I smile remembering that day. Prim wanted to go and Gale wanted to hang out. Somehow another, we didn't lose the kids or get in trouble. That day was the first time I ever ate cotton candy. "That was a good day."

He nodded in agreement.

And then as I walked to the door he called out, "You'll be okay too Katniss. She knows you will be. She said-" He stopped, unfolding the letter, ""I know you're going to hold onto me as long as possible and you can, but don't hold too tight. _Life's a shit ride_. You'll step in some crap and you'll say fuck it. But you'll get through and there will be some help along the way.""

"She said that." I say in a shaky tone.

He nodded. "She also noted at the bottom that I should tell you should go check your bookshelf, left your own airplane there for you."

_My own airplane_, I think. _My own token. My own goodbye._

I nod my head and giving him a smile. He does the same. Then I'm gone, done the hall where I stop into Gale's room before skipping out. I crack the door open, but not too much so it squeaks yet further enough so I can get in and the others in the house won't hear. I slide in and pull out the last of gifts. I place the small, newspaper wrapped box next to his alarm clock. Then turn and make my way out.

…

Standing close to my bedroom window, I watch the snow falls. There an inch or three covering the streets now and it wasn't letting up any time soon.

And as I stand there I can't help but think of what Rory said. _She also noted at the bottom that I should tell you should go check your bookshelf, left your own airplane there for you._

What would Prim have left me? When would she have had the time to leave me something, to hide something in my own room? The letter she had for Rory was given to me a week following her death, she had never been able to give it too himself. So for her to be able to hide something in my bookshelf for me seemed impossible. When had I left her alone to do something like that? When had she been home to do something like that? Did she having someone else do it for her? But I would have known if someone had been in the house, right?

Mind reeling I turn from the window and to the book shelf.

_Don't do it Katniss._

Yet looking to the bookshelf, I feel myself reaching out for it. And it's as I'm about to take a step forward that my phone rings. Looking down at it, I see Peeta's name written across the screen. Peeta or Prim?

I think about it for a moment before tapping the end button. _Sorry Peeta_, I think, _but I can't._

Then taking in a deep breath I take a step forward.

_Here goes nothing. _

So then book by book I took apart the shelves. I flipped through all the books, shook them out, and skimmed the pages for scribbles.

It was when I reached the bottom shelf I was left with ten some books and a small crate I yet miscellaneous objects in.

Like the other, I flip through the pages, shake the bind, and skim through the pages yet I find nothing.

My eyes land on the crate. _Dear God Prim please, please don't be messing with me. Please_.

And taking in a breath, I pull the crate into my lap and begin to dig through it. County fair tickets… Dad's film camera... School IDs... Neon yellow, rounded sun glasses... Cross country spikes… Mix CD… Gray and blue knitted cap… White envelop… Photogra- White envelope?

Taking the envelope in my hands I turn it over to see my name written in Prim's fine print.

_Oh god… _

Staring at it, I can't help, but take it in. I run my fingers along the corners and over my name, but don't open it. She left me something. Prim left me something.

Pushing the crate back onto the bottom shelf of the bookcase, I stand up and walk over to my desk. There I hold it under the small desk light to see one fold sheet of paper. I can't read what she wrote, but something is written.

My breathing picking up, I grasp the envelope in my hands as I come to realize this is the last of Prim. These will be her last thoughts, words, actions to me. And in that moment, my phone goes off again causing my head to pound. I press the end button without looking to see who it is and do my best to focused, stay calm.

_No_, I tell myself, _you can't read it, not yet_.

No, I wasn't letting go of her yet, just like she said I was going to hold on.

So doing my best to control my breathing, I carefully set the envelope on the desk under the light.

And seeing it sit there it causes my whole body to shake.

_That was the last of Prim._

_That was Prim's goodbye._

_I didn't want goodbye… not yet._

And the letter stared at me, urging me to open it and I did the best I could to anything but nevertheless feeling myself cave in. I step away from it, but it just sit there staring at me.

_No_, I tell myself. _No. Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don't. Don't let go of her. She can't go. No. I- I shit- I need a drink. _


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter XVII

…

I'm not really sure how I got here or when I began drinking, but I was drunk and seated across from my father's and Prims tomb at the Hillmen's Cemetery.

It was snowing, barely though, just a few flakes wiping through the air. Looking around, the tombs and headstones were covered in a few inches of snow along with the ground. The trees were bare and bark gone gray. The dirty path through the cemetery was no longer brown, but white with snow expect for the one track that ran through it. My bike was parked- My bike? That was how I got here? Yeah?

_But when did I start drinking?_

Looking down at myself, I was seated Indian style in the snow. I wore my brown boots and torn jeans. I had on my brown and red knitted sweater. These were the clothes I wore the day before Christmas Eve… I think. And if they were… that mean I have been drunk… three days… since I found Prim's letter.

Shaking my head I look to the graves.

"Mo- Moms gone." I say to no one but someone, them. "Left the day you started to have delusions Prim. I guess she couldn't deal anymore... I don't think you noticed, you were calling the nurse Mi- Miss Marbella, your fourth grade teacher… Mom. She was-was a real winner dad, she left us. She broke down after you died, left while Prim was d- dying. You- you really… Everyone's gone. Gale. Mom. You. Prim. I have… Haymitch, Finn - and Peeta?... I cut everyone off. I tri- tried to kill myself. Hell, I wish I did sometimes…"

I trail on and at some point I come to realize I was crying.

I don't know when, but at some point I hear footsteps coming from behind me. They stop, a few feet behind me and the person speaks. "Sweetheart," he says in a sad tone, "What are you doing here?"

I shake my head, looking to my hands in my lap. "They're dead. They're gone and they're not coming back."

"I know sweetheart," he tells me, coming up beside me.

"It's complete shit."

"I know."

"Life's a slut," I spit out in an angry yet semi-slurred tone, "She has a good time with you then- then fucks it all over."

And Haymitch stands there beside me in silence and lets me grieve. He doesn't say anything and he doesn't have to. He understands. He knows this is something that has been building inside me, something I have been in need of. So he lets me cry without interruption.

But after minutes have gone by Haymitch crouches down beside me and loops his arms around my back and under my kegs, "Let's go sweetheart, you're gonna get sick."

I don't fight him. I let him pick me off the ground and carry me to his truck. He places me in the cab and turns on the heater before closing the door and strapping my bike in the bed of the truck. Then he's back in the car and driving me toward his house.

The drive doesn't take long. He doesn't talk and neither do I. I continue to silently cry, curling in a shatter ball against the window. I know Haymitch glances over at me every few seconds, but as I say before, he doesn't do anything, he doesn't talk or shuffle or falter, he lets me be.

When we finally reach the house, he cuts the engine before coming around to the passenger side to get me. He carries me into the house and up the stairs to the bathroom.

Sitting me down on the toilet seat he instructs, "Sweetheart, I need you to get a shower. If you don't you'll get sick and I can't have you getting a cold. So get a shower and I'll wash your clothes. Then when you're done, get changed and come to the kitchen. Understand?"

I look to him a mess, a tattered raggedy doll. "I nearly did _it _Haymitch."

"I nearly did it once too sweetheart."

I look down at my lap. "I thought of doing it again."

"But you _didn't_."

We stand there in silence till Haymitch stands up, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Get a shower sweetheart," he tells me as he exits the room.

And with Haymitch gone I force myself to stand up. _Shower,_ I tell myself, _you smell like Haymitch. Clean up. _

So I turn on the shower, allowing the water to warm up. I strip out of my cloths and I place them outside the bathroom in the hall for Haymitch to wash while I shower. Following, I turn back to the shower only to catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

My reflection had worsened in the last few days. Prim's letter had taken its toll. The alcohol had taken a toll on me. The days before at the dance, my days with Peeta I didn't have dark purple bags under my eyes or slick, clingy hair or vacant, hazed eyes. The only thing that had remained the same about my body from before the letter, when I had gone to the dance with Peeta or when I had went to Gloss's party, were the six visible ribs along each side of my ribcage.

Shaking my head at my reflection, I turn to the shower where the water was steaming.

…

Down in the kitchen I stumbled over to table, falling into one of its wooden seats. The lack of alcohol in my body had begun to bring on the hangover. Stuttered movements and a heavy head.

"Eat this," Haymitch says coming up beside me and placing a plate of eggs and toasted bagel with a cup of coffee down in front of me, "It'll help."

I don't say anything, but stare at the platter blankly. My stomach rumbles in hungry, but at the same time curls in protest as I reach for the bagel.

And as I debate whether or not I should eat, Haymitch on the other hand grunts sitting down beside me. "Why are you drunk, sweetheart?"

"Why are you," I stupidly retort.

"I'm not," he tells me, "I'm sober sweetheart."

_Wait, what? Haymitch was sober? Since when?_

Confuse, I look to him and then glance around the room as if the answer I was looking for was there somewhere… and it was. Haymitch was clean shaven and nicely dressed. He didn't have bags under his eyes or the stench of alcohol on his breath. The house was spotless, not a speck of dust or stack of unopened mail anywhere. The sink was empty and so was the recycling bin. There was food on the counter and there was no stench in the air.

Looking back to Haymitch I ask, "Since when?"

"Since that day back in September, October when I told you it was my responsibility to take care of you and you told me otherwise. I sobered up then." He shrugs his shoulders, "It's my responsibility to take care of you, sweetheart… I better the hell do it, especially with you in this state."

Haymitch sobered up… for me. _Wow_.

So again he asked me, "Why are you drunk, sweetheart?"

I bow my head, looking down at the platter of eggs. "Prim left me something. A letter I guess. She left one for Rory. Found out about it two days ago. Then found mine. I haven't opened it. Don't think I can, I don't want to let go."

Haymitch nods his head understandingly. "The girl left me one too."

My head snaps up. _What?_ "She left you one?"

He nodded his head, "Told me to take care of you and… told me she stole my bottle opener."

I can't help but smile. That was Prim.

"She was smart," he smiles, "And if you were, you'd eat 'cause god knows you don't want to be havin' a headache tonight."

_Tonight?_

…

The Mellark's. That's what I later, now, found out Haymitch meant by tonight. Haymitch was invited to the Mellar's for Christmas dinner. He accepted the invite and told them he would be bringing me along which I suppose was why he had come looking for me early this morning and had found me in the cemetery drunk.

So as I sit in the living room of the Mellark home, Rye comes to sit beside me.

"Everdeen."

"Rye."

"I know I'm not your favorite person, but," he says leaning down so his elbows rested on his knees and hands could run along the sides of head, "be nice to him. He's a fragile kid so please, don't fuck with him."

I raise my eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you two been fooling around. It's not like Peeta is especially secretive, when he comes home cheeks flushed and that childish smile plaster across his face, you know something's up. And I'm not stupid; I know that isn't what he looks like coming home from football or wrestling. He only gets that giddy when he's, let's say been with you."

"Me?"

He shakes his head letting out a soft laugh. "He's not like me or Cato or whomever you've fooled around with Everdeen."

I continue to look to him confused.

He lets out a breath. "He's not like the others. He's different. He doesn't view you the same way they view you. He's- just don't, don't fuck it up. Okay?"

And not knowing what else to do, I nod my head.

Rye gives me a small smile and we fall into a silence. Nonetheless, the silence is broken when Marcus's girlfriend whose name I don't catch comes over and starts a conversation. Yet after a few minutes, I have completely lost in the conversation, not knowing what they were talking about, and honestly was not in the mood to be social.

So excusing myself, I make my way through the house. I avoid the dining room where I know Marcus, Haymitch, and Mr. Mellark where and walk through the kitchen to escape to the back porch.

There on the porch, I walk out through the snow covered deck and lean against the railing on my elbows. The sky is cloudless, filled with stars and a slight wind blows causing me to wrap my arms around my waist. I stand watching the few snowflakes that remain blow through the air.

_Merry Christmas_, I think to myself as I catch a snowflake in the palm of my hand.

And as I stand there, I hear the backdoor open and close followed by pair of footsteps come up beside me.

"Hey," Peeta smiles leaning beside me, "Aren't you cold?"

I shake my head no.

"You okay?"

And so opening my mouth to say something sarcastic Ryes words flood my mind_, Don't fuck with him_. So closing my mouth I quickly rethink what I'm about to say before opening my mouth again, speaking the honest truth. "I was drunk this morning. Well, I was more hung-over than drunk… Over the past two days I had been drinking, I think... Yeah, but Haymitch found me in the cemetery a wreck."

And what Peeta says next isn't the usual response of a normal person. He didn't say something along the lines of "Oh my god" or "Are you okay." But instead, this response is refreshing, "Scotch?" I laughed and Peeta smiled.

Shaking my head I said, "Whiskey."

He nodded his head, asking, "Why?"

_Why? Why did I do it? … Prim_

But I told tell him that.

"You know when you lose something and then… you find a part of it," I try to explain.

He nods his head.

"Well… it was something like that."

Peeta nods his head and we fall silent. As we stand there, we stare at the stares and the snow. I hum along with music playing inside the house and Peeta attempts, but quickly gives up. At some point I find myself leaning into Peeta's side and his arm draped around me, keeping me warm.

And like the other numerous times in the past week, I find my lips locked with Peeta's. I don't know how we end up like this or how it started out. But I don't mind. His lips on mine is something else, it's something that's just… right, perfect, meant.

And when we break apart, we're both gasping for air. _Shit_.

"You know-" He begins, but I cut him off

"You don't want to get involved with me Peeta."

"You don't even know what I was going to say." He says, eyebrows raised.

"You were going to say something Peeta-sih, that you're always there for me or that I don't have to do this alone."

"I was not." He says in protest. And raising my eyebrows at him, he lets out a breath, "Okay maybe I was, but you don't have to."

"You don't want to get involved with me Peeta." I repeat.

"What if I do," he challenges me.

"Why?"

"You seem worth it."

Peeta-" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"My life, my decisions Katniss."

And knowing he will do as he wants I know there's no arguing with him. So I sadly shake my head. Then looking up at him, I give him a thin smile. "Sorry."

"For what?" He asks confused.

"For what happens next."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII

…

"Finn-"

"Kitty!" He sings, ignoring what is being disputed.

"Annie." I plead, looking to her for some help.

She shakes her head at me though, mouthing she's sorry.

"Finn!" I try again.

But he shakes his head no.

Leaning my head back to let out an over exaggerated groan, my head falls against someone's chest.

Nevertheless turning around I come face to face with Peeta. He gives me a smile. "There's no use of fighting him," he tells me, motioning to how the under half of his body that is covered in glitter. Then reaching out, he fixes _Happy New Year_ tiara on my head. "So you're gonna have to suck it up _princess_," he teases me.

I give him a glare for the name and he laughs.

"Come on," he says taking my hand and leading me through the house.

Entering the kitchen, I jump onto the counter as Peeta goes straight to the oven. He pulls our trays of cookies and cheese buns, placing them on top of the stove. Then looking to the tray of cheese buns and then back to me he raises his one eyebrow, asking me if I want one. And with my newly found addiction for cheese buns, I nod my head yes.

He gives me a smile and hands me one.

Cupping the bun in my hand, I take in its warm and sense. Then after a minute or two when I think it's cool enough to eat I take a bite. And _god_, it's good. One thing I learned about Peeta was he could bake. The guy was a god in the kitchen.

So taking another bit, I give him a smile. "These are good."

He smiles, "Thanks."

Falling about into a silence, I continue to savior the cheese bun while Peeta clears the trays and begins to roll pigs-in-a-blanket.

It's when he places the trays into the oven and sets the timer for five minutes that I end up finishing the cheese bun.

"Why are you cooking for Finn's, Mag's party anyway," I ask.

He leans back against the counter across from me. "Finn can't cook and Mags "too old for this shit." So she asked my dad two years ago to cook for this annual party."

I raise my eyebrows, "And where do you fall into this?"

"Dad didn't want to do it this year. He pulled the "old man" card, can't stay up past ten, sleep thing."

"But a seventy-two year old lady can?"

He nodded his head.

"So you took over."

"Yeah," he shrugs, "I mean it's not that big of a deal. You make some cookies and mini pizzas and everything cool."

I laugh, shaking my head.

"What," he asks.

"Cooking," I say, "It's not that easy."

He raises his eyebrows at me, "You can't cook."

I shake my head no.

"I'll teach you." He tells me.

"You'll teach me," I ask, thinking he was joking.

"Yeah," he nods, "Come here."

So hopping off the counter top, Peeta leads me over to the counter beside the oven.

"Pizza," he tells me, "Easy."

And so we begin. Peeta retrieves a bowl of dough he had already prepared form the refrigerator and shows me how to knead it and flatten and shape the dough into small circles the size of one's hand. He leaves me to do that while he goes and refill the platters of food out in the living room for Mags and her quest. When he comes back, I have the "base" for the pizza finished. Peeta gives me a smile and a behind squeeze.

So then with the "base" complete Peeta retrieves tomato sauce and cheese and numerous toppings from the refrigerator for us to complete the pizzas with. Therefore as I grab the jar, I pop the container open splattering specks of tomato over Peeta.

"Oh, _shit._"

"You didn't."

"It was an accident."

"You-"

"It _was_ an accident." I say in protest.

But Peeta thinks otherwise, dipping his finger into the sauce and flicking it in my face.

Jaw dropping I look to him shocked. He didn't.

And then just like Peeta, I dip my fingers in the sauce but instead of flicking it in his face I smear is across his jaw.

"Oh," he says, his jaw shifting into a devious smile, "It's on."

And then it started. Peeta grabbed a handful of sauce and I ran. Yet I didn't make it far, two or three steps, before I felt his arm around my waist pulling me back against his chest and a cold sensation, the tomato sauce, running down my arm. I can't really explain what happened next, but when Finn and Annie walked into the room I was over Peeta's shoulder and there was sauce and cheese and peperoni and whatnot on the floor.

"Jesus, what are you two," Fin say looking at up and condemns cover attire, "Orangutans?"

And in unison, Peeta and I point our fingers at one another.

"She started it."

"It was an accident," I explain.

"Yeah right," he smiles.

Shooting Peeta a glare, Finn cuts in, "It doesn't matter. Go clean up. Annie and I will clean up in here. Its nearly midnight anyway, we don't need any more food."

Peeta and I nod our heads, but don't move.

"Go," Finn says, "And don't let Mags see you, you'll give her a heart attack."

Nodding our heads again, we make our way out the kitchen and up the stairs to the quest bedroom which was connected to the nearest bathroom.

Peeta flicks on the lights and motions for me to go in first. And so inside, we come to see reflections in the mirror. And as I much as I hate to say it, Finn as right, if Mags had seen us she would have had a heart attack. We were a mess. My tiara is gone, probably somewhere in in the kitchen and there is glitter from Peeta's shirt over me. I had splotches of tomato sauce all over, on my arms, chest, neck, jaw, and hair. There was cheese and peperoni matted in my hair and even on my shirt with little beige circle I suppose was oregano. Peeta was no better off. There was tomato sauce along his jaw and down his neck, spreading across his chest and arms. There was cheese in his hair along with basil and the glitter from earlier. There were two olives mashed into his shirt along his shoulder and one scattered in his hair.

Letting out a small snort, it soon turned into abrupt laughter. Laughing so hard, I fall into Peeta's chest unable to calm myself. He laughs too. And as I feel his finger running through my hair, I look up at him picking a slice of peperoni from my hair. And in that moment everything stops. Neither one of us move. We stand there like statues, inches away from one another's eyes. And in that moment all I want to do is kiss Peeta Mellark.

So slowly I shorten the gap between us, bring my lips to his. In that moment I hear the fireworks from the middle of town and the cheering from the living room below. And in that moment I kiss Peeta Mellark.

We fit perfectly. They're like puzzle pieces, molding into one another. And kissing him, my arms tighten around his back and his around my waist. We thrive off of one another. I off of how his tongue dances with mine and he letting out a groan as I bit on his bottom lip. As the kiss goes from timid to intimate, I part my lips even more so, allowing him all control. And so as the kiss deepens, he cups my ass in his hands, lifting me up onto the counter and I dig my finger into his shoulders. My hand runs down his chest, over his well sculpted abs and his travel from my ass, up my back and around to my ribcage. His fingers dance along the skin just below my bra and when his fingers trace along wire of my bra I can't help, but groan.

Nevertheless before anything further could occur we hear a soft knock at the door causing us to separate.

"Hey guys," we hear Annie's soft voice speak through the door, "Peeta, Finn said you could shower in his room and Katniss, I have your bag outside the door. I'll leave your stuff here and… yeah…"

Annie trails off before we hear her place my bag down against the door and escape to the stairs probably back to the kitchen with Finn. Its then that Peeta and I move.

He lets out the breath he had been holding, giving me a giddy smile. "Um, I- I should um, shower."

"Yeah," I nod my head just as startled and fazed as Peeta, "Me too."

Peeta nods his and then after a long moment let's go of my waist, stepping to the door. And as he opens the door, stepping out he turns back to me. "After?"

And not thinking, knowing what after meant or implies, contemplating I just nod my head yes. He gives me a smile as if he is the happiest child alive and I can't help but smile too.

He goes and I grab my bag from outside the door. And as I strip from my cloths and wash away the tomato sauce and even when I redress I can't help, but smile.

Unable to shake the smile I decide not to care and exit the bathroom. I place my bag at the foot of the bed before walking out of the guest room and to the next room over in Finn's.

And on entering I see Peeta. Just Peeta, smiling as he was before. He looks happy, excited… full of bliss. And as I look at him, I can't help, but I think I look as he does, like a giddy child. I can't help, but think that was what that warm our kiss sparked inside me, bliss. I can't help, but think that is something I want to feel again.

But too true for the moment to be what some sappy love story would make it out to be, I hear Finn speak up. "What's got you so smiley?"

I feel my cheeks flush red, but I shrug my shoulders.

He gives me odd look, but I don't care. Peeta gives me a smile and I can tell Annie is doing her best from smiling.

So ignoring Finn's question I take a seat on the floor, folding my legs into a pretzel. I on the floor, Finn and Annie on Finn's bed, and Peeta leaning against the wall not too far from me, we talk. We, well the others talk as I sit there giving thin smiles and short comment, as they talk about the past year and school and people we dislike and work and our plans for the future.

At some point it becomes four twenty-seven. Annie lets out a yawn, already half asleep. Finn smiles as she curls into his chest. He's happy and in that moment I don't think there is anything else in the world he would want.

He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight as he looks to us, speaking in a soft tone. "The guest room is all your guys."

Nevertheless with that note Peeta and I make our way from the floor and to the next room over. And it's as we enter the room that I realize there is only one bed, a full, and two of us. And as I begin to tell Peeta he can take the bed and I was small couch in the corner of the room, he cuts me off. "_Sleep_ with me?"

_Sleep with him? What? Did Peeta just ask me to sleep with him? Sex, no, right?_

And realizing my complete utter shock and confusion he reassures me, "Just sleep, _just_ sleep, I promise."

_Just sleep_, I think. _Peeta is a good guy, just sleep_.

Looking to him, I slowly nod my head. He nods his head too in agreement. Then in unison we began shredding our clothes, Peeta his shirt leaving him in his sweatpants and I my shorts so I was left in my boy shirts and tank-top.

When we were finished shredding a few layers, Peeta went first and then I climbed onto the bed following him. I slip under the sheets, resting my head on his chest and he wrapping his arms around my back.

Peeta reassures me again as we lay there, "Just sleep."

I nod my head, relaxing a bit.

And we lay there. My head rested above his heart. His arms around my back pulling me close against his chest. My body plaster against his, sharing in his warmth. His fingers playing with the tail of my braid while the few strands that stray from the other scatter across his chest. My legs intertwined with his and his with mine.

We lay there. We lay there in peace… bliss?

We lay there, perfectly molded together. We fit?

We lay there and we… I can't help but feel like it is just… right?


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter IXX

…

"Annie."

"Shh."

"Annie."

"Shhh."

"_Annie._"

"_What!?_"

"I don't get what's going on." I say in a low tone.

"Wrestling," she says in a matter-of-fact tone.

"No shit," I retort. _I'm not a dumbass_. "But what are they- how does it- rules?"

She looks to me wide-eyed. "Miss Valedictorian can't figure out how the sport of wrestling works," she teases me.

I internally groan. _God, Finn had been rubbing off on her. Fuck me_.

"I don't do sports," I say in protest.

"Track," she retorts with a snippy smile.

"That's more of a hobby," I object, "_And _in track all you do is run against others for a certain distance and whoever finishes the race with the lowest time wins. It's not wrestling where there's some… funky point system for putting some guys head in your armpit."

She lets out a snort, shaking her head. "Okay, okay. Listen and learn... When pinning your opponent, that means when you take the person you're versing down on the mat so he is unable to-"

I cut her off nearly snapping, "Annie I'm _not_ a five year old, I'm just not a _sports fan_."

Laughing again, she just smiled. "Okay so when pinning your opponent or when you are about to take them down, you get or can get two points. If you escape from getting pinned, you get one point. And last but not least if you do something against the rules, your opponent can be rewarded one to two points."

I nod my head in what I believe is understanding as I watch as Thresh escapes his opponents grasp and then pin him on the mat.

"Two points?" I ask Annie, testing if I understand what's going on.

She nods her head and we go back to watching the wrestling match. Thresh wins again and so does the boy named Jace on our team. We lose the next two of the matches, but the coach just seems to brush them off, uncaring.

After a few more matches, Peeta steps onto the mat. Six foot two, a hundred ninety-six pound Peeta versus the six, five buzz head two hundred eleven pound opponent as Annie informs me.

The referee blows the whistle and the match begins. They walk around the mat slowly. Then after a long moment, Peeta steps, taking the guys by the waist. The guy stutters back a step or two, but fights back. As the buzz head wraps his arms under Peeta's, Peeta does some sort of movement I can't describe and pins him to the mat. The referee begins to count, slapping the mat with his hand, but I suppose before the last clap, the guy rolls over. And as he goes to pin Peeta, deliberately knees him in the gut. You can see Peeta flinch, but he doesn't let it affect him. Then as the guy struggles to pin Peeta, Peeta loops his one arm under the guys and the other around his leg. Then Peeta rolls the guy over, pinning him. The referee claps his hand against the mat and then he's raising Peeta's arm in the air.

Peeta looks through the bleachers at the few of us who sit in the stands till his eyes find me. And when they do his faces perks up and his lips form into a toothy smile. And I can't help but smile back at me.

Annie laughs beside me causing me to look at her.

"What?"

"He has it bad."

"No he doesn't," I say in protest.

She laughs again. "You're _one_ to talk."

My jaw drops knowing exactly what she is accusing. "I don't."

She raises her eyebrows at me.

"I _don't_."

She laughs again. "Whatever you say."

I shake my head and turn back to the match_. I don't._

…

Annie leads me to outside the boys' locker room after the meet. But as soon as we get there she ditches me, telling me that Finn's swim practice is probably over by now and she promised him they would go out after he was done as it was a Friday night.

So standing outside the locker room, I'm just about to leave when Thresh walks out along with Peeta just a step behind him.

"Hey," Peeta smiles.

"Hi," I say, giving Thresh a small wave of the hand as he does the same.

"Didn't know you were coming," Peeta says with a smile.

"Me neither," I mumble.

"Huh?" He says off guard, his face dropping the most minuscule bit. "What does that mean?"

"Annie didn't want to watch Finn be an arrogant ass at swim practice so she told him that she promised you that she'd come watch you're met today… and I got drag along," I explain.

"Oh," he says in understanding and sadness, "Hope it wasn't that bad?"

I shake my head no, giving him a small smile. "You did good."

"Thanks."

I nod my head again and we end up falling into an awkward silence. And after a couple of minutes it isn't Peeta nor myself that break it, but tall and inaudible Thresh.

"Hey… I gotta go get my sister from basketball. Cya Peeta. Katniss."

"Cya Thresh," Peeta says as I just nod my head again.

Then it's just Peeta and I in the hall. Just the two of us. And as we stand there, I open my mouth and then close it and then open it again. "Um, I have to go... I have to finish my mechanic projects."

"The engine," he asks.

I nod my head and begin to walk down the hall. And as I make my way down the hall Peeta doubles steps to catch up with me.

"Didn't you guys just start that like… four days ago?

I nod my head again.

"And isn't it not due till April something?"

I nod.

"You're nearly done?" He asks astonished.

I nod my head again as we turn the corner.

And then as I take out the spare key Beetee had given me to the garage I open the door as Peeta whispers to himself I suppose, "Wow."

I continue into the room, flicking on the lights and making my way to the back corner where the 1970, black Ford Escort I had chosen from the junk yard a few miles outside of town sat tireless up on bricks and car jacks. Then lifting the hood of the car, I clipped a light to it so it hung above the engine and pushed its switch from off to on. The light then flickered to life, revealing the engine below.

"That's a modern engine." He states in a questionable tone.

I nod my head agreement.

"You can put that into a car like… that?"

I nod my head again. "No reason why you can't or law that says otherwise."

This time it isn't I who nods their head this time but Peeta. We fall silent. I set my bag on the tool cart, grabbing the tools and supplies I need before getting and sliding under the car's hood on the skateboards we used in class. Meanwhile, Peeta stood still from what I could tell by the position of his feet.

After a few minutes, Peeta speaks up. "What happens when you're done with the car?"

"Um," I say from under the car, "Beetee said the best one built, the person whom built it can keep or the school sells it."

"And the others?"

"We take them apart. Kind of a final… So once built and graded we have to take them apart… They need most of the parts for next year's class and for the rest of it, we exchange it back at the junk yard or supplies and parts next year…"

"Makes sense," I hear him say followed by a long pause, "That's easier right, taking it apart?"

"Yeah."

We fall silent again. Peeta stands still only setting his bag down beside his feet and I continue to work under the car. A few times I roll midway out from under the car so my stomach down shows and grab a wrench or vice grips I had spread out across the ground before rolling back under the car and getting back to work.

Twenty minutes or so past before Peeta speaks again. "How long are you going to be here?"

"Um," I say dragging it out, "Probably a few more hours… why?"

"I'm going to order a pizza, what do you like?"

"You're staying," I say surprised, rolling out from under the car and sitting up so my back rested against the grill of the car.

He nodded his head.

"Why?" I ask.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I have nothing else to do."

I raise my eyebrows not convinced.

"I find you… _interesting_," he elaborates.

"Interesting," I say aloud. _Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Interesting?_

He nodded his head again. "So what do you want on the pizza?"

Looking at him for a long moment I give in, "White with spinach and tomatoes."

He nodded his head. "Okay."

…

"I can't believe you got this radio to work… it has to be from the '60s, '70s," Peeta smiles as he plays with the radio's dial.

I shake my, taking a bite of my crust. "Juost pict a stasion,"I say with food in my mouth.

He laughed at me finally settling on a station.

"Better?" He asks as some indie song plays.

I nod my head, taking another bite of my pizza.

"Pizza was a good idea?"

I nod my head again. Pizza was a _great_ idea. Twenty minutes after asking me if I wanted pizza, he came back into the garage with two pies and god the smell was… gorgeous. He got a white with chopped spinach and tomato and another regular sausage and cheese pie with sausage and mushrooms.

So as we listen to the radio, I finish my slice of pizza in a few bites and Peeta does the same after a few minutes. Then when we're finished, we seem to just fall together, into one another like puzzle pieces. I drape my legs over Peeta's so I was basically sitting on his lap, resting my head close to his jaw and he wrapping his arm around my back.

And as we sit there, Peeta plays with the tail of my braid as I hum along to the radio, whispering a few mores, but never enough to complete a line. And as we sit there, we grow closer.

Peeta begins to nibble at my ear and I let out a moan in response. It's when it becomes too much, I give in and bring my lips to his. And as I run my tongue along his bottom lip, he opens his mouth allowing me access. Soon enough my legs straddle his waist, arms around his neck and hands in his hair. His hands cup my ass.

The action builds as I lower myself down on his lap and he lets out a straggled moan from the back of his throat. "Katniss," he whispers as his hand travel from my ass to my hips and up under my shirt along my ribs. It's when his hands trace the outline of my bra that I let out a gasp.

He quickly pulls away, but I give him a small nod of the head, telling him its okay. He nods his head too; bring his lips back to mine. His hands find there back to my breast and he begins to palm them through my bra. And _god_, it's… it's… I let out a straggles groan myself, raking my hands through his hair as he then begins to knead them. He lets out a groan too as I rake my hands through his hair and subconsciously begin to move my hips against mine.

Slowly, he pulls his hands away from my breast and down to the hem of my shirt. He tugs at the hem, giving me a look. Knowing what he's hinting at, I nod my head. So pulling my shirt from over my head he tosses at the dashboard. His lips clamp onto my collarbone and his one hand sneaks under my bra, kneading my breast.

"Pee- ta," I moan, running my hands along his chest, grinding against him.

Before long, his kisses begin to travel up along my neck and I am tugging his shirt over his head. I rest my one hand on his diaphragm and allow the other to tinker along the waistband of his khakis. His hands turned back toward my waist. And it is as our chest rub against one another his hands hook in the belt loops of my jean and mine begin to dip into his that he begins gasp between out kisses.

"Kat- Katniss not, not li- like this- is," he gets out.

So pulling away from him he looks to me shaking his head. "Not like this."

And all I can do is nod my head.

_Okay. _


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter XX

…

He was ruining my life with or without intentionally doing so. That was what Peeta Mellark was doing. He was _ruining_ my life.

Everything and anything seemed to be changing or changed or just a mess.

_And _to add to the "Peeta situation" as I had begun to call it, midterms had started two days ago.

So as the last few seconds of my final exam began to tick away I looked to my right to see Peeta. He looks from the clock to me and gives me a smile. And I can't help but smile back. _God, what was happening to me_? I was- he was- we were-

Peeta was changing things. He was causing… something. When he smiles at me or whispered something corny during class or kissed me there was- there was this spark inside me. It was like the spark be had caused before. It felt like bliss, earning, joy. And I was becoming… addicted to that spark. It was slowly growing inside me, like it was fire catching.

And Friday was just as worse. After that night, I couldn't help but think about what it would have been like to have gone further. Would it have been the same? Or would it be a spark of fire and then an unstoppable flame?

But I suppose I wouldn't know, at least not for now. Peeta's words still rung in my head, _Not like this_.

_What did that mean? Not in the car, at the school? Did he want to? Did he think- _

My mind rambles only to be cut off by the bell. And so snapping out of it, I stand up from my seat, strapping my bag over my shoulder and taking my exam in my hand before stepping to the front of the class. Then as I am one of the last to hand in my exam, along with Peeta, Cinna gives me a smile and tells me to have a good weekend.

Then as I walk out of the classroom, Peeta comes up beside me.

"Hey," he smiles, "Are you doing anything?"

"I have work at the hob in a few hours."

He opens his mouth then closes it. His cheeks flush and he runs his hands through his hair as he opens his mouth again, "Do want to grab something to eat with me?"

"Um, sure."

"Cool," he smiles, relieved, "It's a date."

_Wait_, I think, _what did he just say? A date? Is that what he said? A date? He was asking me out on a date? What?_

I stop and he turns to me. "You okay?"

"A date?"

He looks at me, taking in my stance. Then when relieving his words effect, he takes it back, flushing red. "Oh um, it doesn't have to be a date. It can be whatever you want it to be. A date or friends or ah, whatever you want it to be."

I stare at him. His cheeks are flushed a light shade of scarlet. His head is slightly facing down so he wasn't looking me in the eyes. His hand was on the back of his neck nervously running along his hair line.

_Did Peeta like me? _

Internally laughing at the thought I can't help, but see how sill it is. Peeta, Peeta of all people liking someone like me, me. Anyone in generally liking me was just a ridiculous thought. Peeta Mellark liking me. _Ha, right?_

And so in a hesitant tone I say, ask, "Friends."

…

Sitting on the brown leather couch at the bakery Mr. Mellark comes from out the kitchen with two plates and two bottled waters in hand. At the sight of him Peeta immediately gets up to retrieve the food.

I mouth a thank you to Mr. Mellark and he gives me a smile in return before stepping back through the door to the kitchen.

"Here ya go," Peeta says handing me a water and a spinach and cheese sandwich on a warm cheese bun.

I give him a smile uttering, "Thanks."

He gives me a smile, sitting back down beside me. He sets his water beside mine on the coffee table followed by taking a bite of his turkey and cheese on wheat.

And as we eat, people come in and out of the bakery. Some order cakes or loaves of bread. Others stare at the cakes in the display case or look at the ones in the binder they have on the counter for order. Some get meals to go and others sit down like Peeta and I.

It's when a group of girls comes into the bakery, taking a seat at the table near the window that Jill Koller walks over toward us. She comes over standing in front of Peeta in her skinny jeans and deep, deep v-neck. She gives him an innocent smile showing off her glossy white teeth, "Heyyy Peeta."

Peeta looks up from his sandwich, swallowing what he had been chewing. "Oh um, hey Jill."

Then looking to me she gave me a snide look before asking Peeta. "You doing anything this Saturday?"

"Um," he says looking to me, "Um, I'm working the bakery all day."

"What about at night," she smiles.

"I- I um," he thinks, "Finn and I are hanging out, video games and shit."

"You should cancel," she smiles again, "We could have some fun."

"Oh um, I can't," he tells her, glancing at me, "I've been putting Finn off for weeks. I can't cancel on him again." He forces a laugh, "You know how childish he becomes when he doesn't get what he wants."

She snorts rolling her eyes. "Whatever, your loss."

Peeta nods his head and if she was expecting Peeta to change his mind at her response, but he doesn't. So to her dismay she shakes her head, letting out another snort before muttering some nonsense about it being Peeta's lost as she walks back to her friends.

Peeta lets out a breath when she's gone. "I can't stand her."

"Didn't you date her?" I ask looking to him confused.

He bows his head in shame. "Not one of my brightest decisions in life."

Holding back a laugh, I take a bite of my sandwich.

We fall back to how we were before Jill had come over, eating and making small "talk" till Peeta asked, "Are you dating Gale Hawthorne?"

"_What?_" I say, nearly spitting out my sandwich.

"Eh, ah, shit," he says, "I shouldn't have said that, don't answer that, that was inappropriate…"

He rambles on about his stupidity and immaturity till I cut him off with a, "No."

His lips form an "o," but he quickly brushes it off. "That's cool. I mean it'd be cool if you were dating him too… It's cool if you like him, he's cool. It's cool if you don't like anyone, you don't have to… You- you. Its coo- yeah."

He shuts up and that's it. We eat in silence and after an hour I leave for the Hob. Yet my mind still mauling over his words and the meaning behind them.

_Did Peeta like me? Was that even a possibility? Maybe? Wait, no. Right? Why would he? I was me and he was he. Why like someone who was your complete opposites? We weren't magnets; real relationships didn't work that wait, right? Sure we did spend most of our time together and we did kiss and shit, but he would like me? Me? Damaged weird me? Possibly, maybe, yes? _

…

"How were the terms," Thom asks as he hands me a chicken tender off of one of the plates he had just made up.

I shrug my shoulder.

He snorts, "Oh don't be that kid, everyone knows you aced them."

I shrug my shoulder taking a bite of the chicken. He just shakes his head, flipping the burgers on the grill.

"So Mellark?"

My head jerks up to look at him. _What?_

He gives me a smirk, pleased. "So there is something going on with you and Mellark-"

"No." I say too quickly.

"Mh hmm," he hums still smiling, "That's why Gales always asking about you and him, right?"

I swallow the bite of chicken I had been chewing. "What? Gale has been asking about me?"

He shakes his head, walking over to the window and placing the platters for table five ready for pick up. Then walking back to the grill he tells me, "You're hopeless."

"Thom." I warn.

"Of course he asks about you Kat. Did you think he didn't? I mean god, the guy loves you." He flips two burgers off the grill and onto two plates, "You didn't think he'd keep tabs on you?"

And I didn't think. I just assume after what happened that was it for us. So shaking my head, I stay silent and tear last piece of the chicken off and pop it into my mouth.

Thom shakes his head as he piles some fries onto the two plates in front of him. "Kat I know you guys may not gotten along in a while or whatever shit happened between you guys, but you have to know he wasn't just going to let go of you."

I nod my head. He was right, Gale would never just let go. He was too stubborn. He was too much like me. We had been friends for far too long and even though we fucked ourselves up, it wouldn't end. For it to end it had to be something much worse between us. And I suppose Gale wasn't the only one keeping tabs. There was the Christmas gift I had left and the small, overlooked question I would ask the kids when I went over to visit when Hazel and he weren't there.

"And for Mellark," Thom said as he set the next set of platter in the service window, "in some ways he's no different from Gale."

_He was no different from Gale..._

_What the fuck did that mean? _


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter XXI

…

As we sit in AP biology I struggle to keep my eyes open. From working the night shift for the last six days along with pile of homework and major writing assignments for the third quarter due soon combined with the inability I had to sleep I felt as if I could drop any moment. And as my eyes begin to shut again I feel something poke me in the stomach causing me to jump.

Looking around to Finn he gives wiry smile, he points to Peeta and Thresh across from us.

Peeta mouths to me: _You okay?_

I nod, picking up the emptying coffee cup on the table and turning it upside down in an attempt to tell him I needed a refill.

He nods his head and gives me a thin, sad smile, turning back to the front of class. But Thresh continues to stare at me a little longer. I'm not sure if he's worried or confused or pitiful or just looking. Yet he stares at me for a few more moments before turning his attention back to the board.

I try to do the same as Peeta and Thresh and focus on what's going on the board, but Finn pokes me again enabling me from doing so.

"_What_," I hiss in a low whisper.

"How many days," he asks in the same low tone.

I shake my head, refusing to reply. And to make sure he knows I turn my attention back to the front of the class where the teacher is drawing the stages of mitosis. .

Finn pokes me again in the side. "_Days_." He says it not as a question, but a demand.

I let out a breath, "Six."

"Six," he begins, "Kitty-" But I cut him off.

"Finn." I say in a low, but jeer tone warning him and pleading with him to not go any further.

"You're a zombie," he hisses at me, "What are you doing here in school kitty? You should be home, sleeping."

"We have a test Monday," I retort. I know the answer is weak and he does too, but in the three seconds know I have to respond before I'm sure he'll go off on me it's the best I can come up with in my state.

He snorts. "And you're valedictorian; I think you can afford to miss a day of class."

"Finn-" I plead, knowing something that I mostly won't like is going to happen yet he doesn't let me.

"Are you working tonight?" He asks, pausing for a response only for me to remain mute. "_Kitty_."

I know he will keep asking and reluctantly and will find out if whether or not I tell him so I reluctantly nod my head. _Yes._

"Well not anymore."

"Finn-" I plead, but again he cuts me off.

"I'm covering for you and you have _no_ say. You're going home and sleeping."

I open my mouth again, but nothing comes out as Finn continues.

"_And_ you're eating something 'cause for god sakes you have to be twenty pounds under weight."

_Thirty-one_, I think, but don't say it aloud. Instead I sit there and unwilling nod my head knowing there was on use. I would go home, but I couldn't promise him I'd sleep.

…

The next period Beetee lets me go to the teacher lounge to get more coffee. Peeta keeps me awake throughout the rest of the day when Annie is not telling me about the Valentine's dance at school and soon to be romantic date with Finn. In my free I sit outside the music room allowing the freshmen's harsh clatter and clashes keep me awake. And by the end of the day I am just like how I was during biology, barely living.

…

I lie across the black leather couch in the living room, one of my arms under my head and the other over my stomach as I watch the Discovery channel. Something about tuna fishing was on. I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening on the television, I had just turned it on so there was some background in the house's unbearable silence.

When I had gotten out of school Thom had called me saying if I dared came by the Hob or was even spotted anywhere outside of my house that he would kick my ass. Therefore I forced myself to go home. I took a cold shower and came down to the living room in my pair of running shorts and a cut-off shirt.

So as I hug one of the couch pillows against me, I hear the front door open and close. And as quickly as I can, I shift myself slightly on the couch along with closing my eyes so it looks as if I am asleep.

Yet as much as I try to trick whomever I assume had just entered the house that I am asleep as instructed, I'm mistaken as the footsteps enter the room passing me into the kitchen. Its then I think I had believed I had tricked Finn, but I think otherwise when I hear a voice call out, "You're not that great of an actress."

And as much as I wasn't surprised I hadn't tricked whomever I was asleep, I'm caught off-guard that the voice isn't Finn's.

Quickly rolling off the couch, I nearly fall from under my feet when I first stand up. Nevertheless I quickly steady myself before making my way in the kitchen to see…

Peeta.

He looks up from the bag which he is pulling tupperware containers from and gives me a smile. "You need to work on your acting."

And so confused and puzzled about why he was here I can only say, "How'd you know?"

He shrugs putting one of the containers in the microwave for a few minutes. "Your face just looked too… tight," he pauses thinking about it, "Like you weren't comfortable, just weren't really sleeping."

I nod my head, wrapping my arms around my midsection.

Peeta goes back to his bag, stuffing a few things I didn't see him take out back into the bag. _Why was he here?_ And the only thing my mind tells me is Finn. Finn is the reason why. Finn.

Yet unsure if Finn was the real reason Peeta was here I look to see him taking the container from the microwave and placing it on the counter before looking to me. "What," he asks cautiously.

"Why are you here?"

"Finn," he honestly tells me and I nod my head. For some reason I'm not mad with him, I suppose because I like how he's honest with me, I like how Peeta is.

We stand there in an awkward silence as usual for a bit longer before Peeta speaks up, "Food?"

"I have to eat?"

"I was told to make sure of it," he tells me nodding his head.

I let out a breath, "Can I ask what it is?"

"Italian Wedding," he says adding, "I brought cheese buns and come reject cookies, too."

"Reject cookies?" _I didn't know cookies could be rejected. I mean they're cookies, you just eat 'em_.

He nodded. "I messed up on a batch."

"Are they um, deathly or something?"

He laughs shaking his head, "Oh no, it's just we can't sell them. They taste fine and whatever, I just add a little too much sugar so they're a little _too_ sweet."

I think a moment before nodding my head, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

…

I take a bite of the cookie only to begin to cough a bit. "A little too sweet" was an understatement, it seemed as if I was just taking a straight spoonful of sugar form the bag. Continuing to cough I pick up my glass, taking a sip of the water I wash the cooking down. I let out one more cough before realizing Peeta is looking to me as if I was going to die. I give a reassuring smile sarcastically telling him, "There wasn't enough sugar" which results in him cracking me a smile.

…

Lying there on the couch, my head rest on Peeta's chest and his fingers run up and down my ribs. "They're like speed bumps," he whispers.

I let out a snort, but quickly stop myself from going any further as my brain urges and my mouth opens. "I'm not anorexic or bulimic or one of those," I tell him, "I'm not."

He nods his head against mine. "I never said you were."

"People think I am." I say is a low tone.

"Don't think about the other people," he tells me, "Fuck them."

And with that I can't help, but laugh. I laughed so hard that I could feel my cheeks flush and lips broaden causing my jaw to cramp and my stomach to move up and down in an un-rhythmic manner. All this causing Peeta so much confusion about what was so funny about what he had just said.

"What?" He ask be wildered.

I smile. "It's just- just funny."

"What is?"

"You- you cursing," I say letting out another giggle.

His face tightens defensively. "And whys that?"

I shrug my shoulder. "'Cause you're Peeta Mellark. Peeta," I tell him, "Innocent, good, polite Peeta. You just- when you say- it's just funny."

I continue to laugh and Peeta shakes his head ashamed. "You think I'm good?"

"Mh hmm."

"Yeah?"

And then in on motion, Peeta flips us over so he hovers above me. He gives me a cocky grin, showing me his hundred dollar smile and then it begins. His lips quickly find mine and in no time things become heated. As his lips leave mine and travel along my jaw till he's nibbling on my earlobe, I realize his hands slipping under my shirt and kneading my breast.

Unable to handle myself, I let out a moan that had been building in the back of my throat. And as he rolls my one nipple between his thumb and finger I get out a gasp, subconsciously running my fingers through his hair and grinding my hips against his to which he lets out a starchy groan. Yet when it's too much and at the point that if we know we don't stop now than we won't stop thirty seconds from now that Peeta pulls away, resting our foreheads against one another.

"Still good," he asks.

And I can't help, but smile, nodding my head yes.

He lets a snort, shaking his head.

Soon we fall back together, I leaning against his chest and his arms around me. And after a moment, he ask, "Why aren't you eating, sleeping?"

I shrug my shoulder.

"Katniss."

"Peeta-"

"Please," he begs and I reluctantly nod. "Eating," he asks.

I shrug my shoulders, "I'm just not hungry sometimes. I'm not purposely not eating. I'm just not hungry all the time."

He nods his head, waiting a moment before asking the next question. "Sleeping?"

I shrink into him, pulling the blanket we have over us closer to me. He gives me a soft, reassuring squeeze telling me that it's okay, that I can tell him and even if I don't its okay, that'll be okay.

"It's just, it's not always nice," I just about whisper into his shirt.

He must hear and understand what I'm implying as he questions, "Nightmares?"

_Yes, no, sometimes. _I nod. _They were only half the problem. The other half was how I had always had this odd inability to sleep. And along with the fact that I had been pushing myself beyond exhaustion doesn't help. _

"Since when?"

"Since my dad died," I tell him, "They're not daily, just when I do have them I just- I just can't."

I feel myself begin to shake and my voice begin to crack as attempt to continue, but thankfully Peeta pulls me close and lets me know it's okay. I curl into him and he wraps around me. And there I feel safe, right, blissful.

We lie there, wrapped in one another, not bothering to pay attention to the old rerun of some game show from the '90s. And as we lay there, I feel my eyes begin to close, but I do my best to fight it. Peeta must see my struggle as I feel him give me another soft squeeze as he whispered, "Go to sleep Katniss. I'm here. Nothing will happen to you."

I reluctantly nod my head. And as I drift into the darkness I swear I hear Peeta say something and I'm half sure what it is, but I can't be sure. I can make out _one_ word and personally I'm not sure I want to know the rest, even if the word I think he said actually escaped his lips.

I drift further into the darkness and the word mingles at the surface.

_Love. _


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter XXII

…

Rolling over, I curl into the warmth beside me. It too curls into me, wrapping itself around me. I let out a breath, enjoying the warmth only to hear a gruff voice truly wake me.

"Sweetheart."

_Shit._

Opening my eyes, I come into view of a man's chest. Then looking up I come to see Peeta. Shit. Turning over, I see Haymitch with his arms folded across his chest and a judgmental look on his face. Quickly and with a bit of a struggle I slip out of Peeta's grip. Shifting off the couch and onto my feet I stand tall in front on Haymitch. Haymitch opens his mouth, but before he can say a word I grab him by the arm, leading him out of the room.

"What the hell is he doing here?" He demands the moment we step into the kitchen.

"Nothing."

"_Nothing_," he snorts, "He had his arms locked around you sweetheart."

I shake my head.

"What is he doing here?"

I remain silent.

"Sweetheart."

"Making sure I'm not _dead_," I snap. "He came by last night to make sure I ate something for once! He made sure I got some sleep! He was making sure I wasn't dead!"

"Sweetheart-"

But I cut him off. "No," I say throwing down my arms, "You have no right!"

His eyes widen. "You are my responsibility, I have every right. And yes, I know I'm a shit parental-figure-guardian-whatever-my-title-is. And it's not if you mind or care, but I'm fine with the boy being here. I know he's a good kid and god, I'm thankful he cares about you; god knows I'm going a shit job. But… but-" He sucks in a breath, running his head through his hair, "Just tell me you're using pro-"

"We're not _fucking_, Haymitch."

He looks at me.

"We're_ not_."

He raises his hands in defense, "Okay. Okay."

We stand there for a moment collecting out thoughts, cooling off from whatever had just happened.

_God_, I think, _why was I flipping shit on Haymitch?_

Baffled about what had just happened, I turn to Haymitch, "Why are you here anyway?"

"There's close to three feet of snow out there sweetheart, wanted to make sure you were okay. Okay, food, heat, electricity."

I nod my head. God I was an _idiot._ "Right, ah sorry," I mumble.

"So 'kay," he tells me, "It's okay."

Looking around the kitchen he nods his head. "Um, I'm gonna go then."

I nod my head and follow him to the door. And just when he is about to walk out to turns to be closing his eyes as if he hates what he's about to say. "If you two do do anything jus-"

"_Haymitch_."

He nods his head, giving me a thin smile before making his way out into the snow.

Letting out a grateful breath I close the door before making my way back to where Peeta still laid asleep on the couch. Then as I stood there thinking of what to do, matter over mind, I feel myself lay down beside him again. And just like before, he's arms elope around me and I curl against his chest.

…

Rolling over, the scent of butter and maple and flours and sweetness fills the air. I look to see Peeta no longer lying beside me. Then looking around I see light streaming out the door frame of the kitchen.

So sitting up, I stretch out my legs and arms. I crack my neck before standing up. Then stretching out my back, reaching high as possible on my tippy-toes and then reaching down to touch my toes before making my way into the kitchen. And there turning off the stove with his one hand as the other sets a plate of buttermilk pancakes I assume Peeta looks at home, natural.

Looking over at me, he gave me a smile. "Hey, you're up."

I nod my head.

"Sleep okay?"

I nod again adding in, "'Till Haymitch decided to show up at five this morning."

Peeta's face stiffens at my words. "That _actually_ happened?"

I slowly nod my head unsure of Peeta's concerned. "Why," I ask before slowly realizing what he was implying, "You_ were_ awake!?"

"Ah shit, I thought it was a dream."

"You dream about Haymitch," I say bewildered.

"Shit," he groans, running his hands over his face, "He thinks I'm having sex with you."

"Peeta-"

"I'll never be able to look him in the face again."

"Pee-"

"Oh god."

"Peeta," I snap causing him to go mute. "First off, you and I are not fucking, were friends. Secondly I told Haymitch off and made sure he was clear of that. And thirdly, you shouldn't give a shit."

When I'm done speaking we fall silent, I watching Peeta carefully as he nods his head, thinking over what had just happened.

It's when he stops nodding his head that he looks to me with a small smile. "You like pancakes?"

"Yeah."

"Cool," he smiles, "On the couch?"

"Sure."

So Peeta grabbing the plate of pancakes, I retrieve two forks from the drying rack along with a bottle of maple syrup that I am surprised to find in one of the cabinets above the counter that actually isn't expired as I assume most of the food in the cabinets are. Yet with the forks and syrup, I go into the living room and sit beside Peeta on the couch. And as we pick apart the pancakes one by one, we begin to speak again.

"Annie's probably ticked about the snow."

"Hyy," I ask as I swallow a piece of pancake, "No school."

"Yeah, the snow has half of town shut down. No school, no dance. And mostly likely no date, the place Finn was gonna to take her is probably closed because of the weather."

"They could do it another time," I say taking a bite of my pancake.

He nods his head, but shrugs his shoulder, "But Valentine's Day won't happen till next year."

"Yeah," I begin but cut myself as Peeta's words sink in. _It was Valentine's Day? Today, really?_ I look to him confused, "Today, today is heart day?"

"Yeah," he says looking to me with concern, "Don't you remember hearing Annie tell us about her and Finn's plans for today all during lit. yesterday?"

I shake my head.

_God, how bad was I yesterday? How bad had I been over the last few days? Ah, god I needed to sleep._

"Well," Peeta speaks up, "Do you got a hot date tonight?"

I snort, "No, I don't do this."

"_This_," he ask confused.

"Valentine's Day, feelings, relationships, dating… I'm more…"

"Casual," Peeta offers sadly.

I nod my head. _Casual, that's what I was. I couldn't do feelings and love anymore, not after my father and mother and especially Prim. Yet then again there was always Peeta who… dear god did something. _

Continuing the conversation I ask, "What about you? There has to be someone."

He shakes her head. "No… but there is a girl."

"Why don't you go out with her, ask her out?"

"Not her thing," he says sadly, "She doesn't even know I exist really."

Peeta doesn't continue and neither do I. We fall silent for the most part. The television plays in the background and sometimes we make small notes asking one another to pass the syrup back to one another. We don't talk about how Peeta loves a girl who doesn't even know he is alive nor how I don't do relationships yet rely on causal contacts to stay stable.

…

As I walk down the snow plowed streets, no fresh flakes fall except from the already fallen ones that wisp through the air. And as I walk I can't help, but think back to just hours ago after Peeta and I finished breakfast we took a nap and when we woke up, Peeta had a message from his father asking if he was fine. It was when that Peeta and I got dressed in our full winter gear that we went out to the curb and shoveled out his jeep. He kissed me goodbye and I ended up hear walking the streets.

It was Valentine's Day and I was alone… and for some reason that bothered me. It bothered me, me. It bothered the girl who didn't give a shit, the girl who hooked up left and right, the girl who didn't feel, who didn't do Valentine's Day.

A number of things in the last few hours after waking up beside Peeta on the couch seemed to bother me. Maybe it wasn't just the last few hours; it had been over the last few weeks that something, some things had been bothering me.

With Peeta, everything was changing. They weren't major happenings, but small, minuscule ones that if you weren't paying close enough attention one wouldn't notice. There was…

How he knew how I liked me tea, a little mint and nothing else-

How he knew I jumped when one touched my shoulder or lower back so he'd touch my arm or hip to tell me he was there-

How he knew when he drove me places that I liked to listen to indie and soft rock station-

How he knew that I was stubborn as shit and that was it-

How he knew I didn't eat large amounts of food unless… unless it was something Peeta had made or Sae was being persistent-

How he knew that on days when I didn't want to talk it was his and everyone else best opinion not to ask why-

How he knew that I liked it best when it was either dawn or twilight-

How he knew that when I drank coffee I like to have one of those chocolate ship granola bars Finn kept in his locker with it-

How he knew I only liked to wear light, non-dark shades when the sun was out-

How he knew that when he when he played with the tail of my braid that I couldn't help but smile-

How he knew when he kissed my neck or nibbled at earlobe that he took my breath away, causing to blush scarlet-

How he knew I liked when it rained or snowed-

How he knew that I was okay with him, okay being in his arms, okay with him being there, okay with that spark-

How he knew…

How he knew everything. Peeta knew so much that neither Finn nor Gale nor Haymitch nor anyone knew about me.

And as I find myself on the front steps of Emil's Church, the last place I would suspect myself to be, sit down and wrap my arms around my waist. I sit there, holding myself together and rethink over my monologue.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen. I live in the Seam. I go to school at Capitol Hill. I am top of my class, valedictorian. I drink. I sleep around. I'm a slut. I don't really care... but I kind of do._

_The social status in my life had become an up and down roller-coaster. I use to be friends with Gale Hawthorne, were not any more though. I still visit his siblings but only when he and his mother aren't around. I'm friends with Finnick Odair who is dating Annie Cresta who I hang out with… and suppose you could call a friend. Finn isn't himself anymore yet he is. He doesn't fuck around with one person one day and another day anymore, but he's still his bothersome, annoying self. He's happy. He loves Annie; at least that's what I think. _

_The only family person I could really consider family now was Haymitch Abernathy. He went from deadbeat drunk to holy rose sober for me. He became a parental figure for my sake; keeping tabs on me and checking up to make sure I was okay. He cared about me. _

_Then there's Peeta Mellark. Peeta. We're friends? He kissed me and we have kissed since plus some. Since him I haven't done anything with anyone else or even thought of doing anything that wasn't him. He's working on a literature project with me. He's nice and kind and smells like vanilla… and I like that about him. He's changed things in my life… and I don't know how I feel about them, but I do. With him there is this spark inside me, this feeling of bliss and happiness I have never left before. But I don't think were friends, something more than that and that scares me. _

_The house I live in is empty. In a way I am on my own. Prim is dead. Dad is dead. Mom is gone. I don't what I'm doing or where I'm going. This is me, this is my life._


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter XXIII

…

February quickly turned to March and March neared April in only a matter of time. The snow began to cease at the start of the week and now, only the flakes that were settled across lawns and hung in the trees was the only snow that whisked through the air. And in that time, Finn and I finally found time to catch up.

"So," Finn says as he sits down across from me at Angelo's Pizzeria, "What's new Sugar?"

I shrug my shoulders, picking one of the tomatoes from my hoagie and taking a bite.

"Hm, really?"

I chew for a moment, thinking it over before nodding my head.

"Mhm," he says as he swallows the piece of calzone. "Ah," he sticks out his tongue, "Hot."

Shaking my head at him, I can't help but let out a laugh, slapping my hand over my mouth.

Rolling his eyes at me, he takes a drink of his soda. "Well since you have nothing you're _willing _to share, so I'll tell you about my life…

Annie and I went sledding in the meadow on Valentine's Day instead of going to that dance where Effie would be flipping shit about manners on the way in which we display affection…

She and Mags get along too well. It scares me. Last week Mags pulled out the photo booth and showed her all the awful picture of me, she showed her my chucky phase and Annie couldn't help but giggle saying I was "adorable" which is no doubt the truth…

She's got me reading me too, but not some shit drama or romance. She offered me this book about swimming and since I've been reading life adventure and life books…

We won states, but you know that, you were there with Annie, Peeta, and Thresh…

I met her parents last Thursday. Her mom's a chief at that five-star seafood restaurant in Milton and her dad's a botanist. I like them; they're exactly like Annie, easygoing and kind…

I don't know what's going on, but I like it. Annie has flipped my life upside down. And _fuck_, I'm cool with it. She's just- she's- she's a, she's Annie. I don't know what has gotten into me, but it's her. I, ah, I think I love her Kitty."

I feel my jaw drop at Finn's last few words. He loved her, he think he loved her. _What the hell?_ This wasn't Finn, Finn didn't do this. Finn was the one that showed me exactly the opposite. _No emotions, no attachment_; that _was_ his motto. I mean shit, was he being serious? _Did he really love her? _

Seeing my mixed feeling, he continues. "I love her and I told her I loved her. I don't know what this is, but its real and its perfect and it's exactly what I want. Annie is exactly what I want, she's smart and horribly up forward and pretty and snarky at times and just… I think she's it, no she it is. Annie is it for me, she my better half. Fuck, I mean I love her, really, really love her."

_Fuck._

Fuck, that's all I can think.

And as we sit there in silence, I suck in a deep breath knowing this wasn't about me and I don't know how even know how it could be. It was overwhelming for sure. But for Finn, this was great; this was truly great, I was happy for him.

So letting out a breath I give him a smile. "I'm happy for you Finn, really."

He gives me a childish smile, cheeks flushing. "Thanks kitty."

We sit there for longer. Finn orders another calzone and I tare pieces of my roll off and eat them. It's after Finn's second calzone comes that he's speaks again.

"How are you and Peeta?"

I shrug my shoulders.

"Kitty." He pleads with me to stop hiding shit from, but I don't say anything so he continues, "I know you two goof around. I know you guys go out and eat and watch movies and hang out. I know you guys have "sleep overs." I know that on Sundays you spend your mornings at Haymitch's and the rest of the time at the Mellark's."

"Finn-"

But he cuts me off. "Com'on Katniss, you know there is something going on between you two so why don't you let it happen?"

"'Cause there's another girl." I snap in a small hush tone.

"Huh? Another girl," he asks, raising his eyebrows.

_Oh shit_, I think, _fuck, I just said that_. I hadn't told anyone that, not even myself. At least I wouldn't truly admit it.

"Kitty?"

"On Valentine's Day he asked me if I had a hot date and I told him no. And then out of nowhere I asked him the same thing and he told me no yet then he told me there was a girl, but she didn't know he existed it so it was a lost cause."

Finn shakes his head smirking like an asshole. "You're jealous."

"Finn!"

"Sorry, sorry," he says still smiling, "Has he mentioned that girl since?"

I shake my head.

"Does he look at other girls?"

I shake my head.

"So why do you care about this "girl?""

"'Cause I don't want to screw him over Finn, not Peeta."

"You've done it before with other people's relationships."

"No, not with Peeta," I say in a small whisper, "Peeta's different."

Finn nods thinking everything over for a moment before opening his mouth again, "Didn't he ask you out a few weeks before Valentine's Day?"

I nod my head.

"Did he ask you again sometime after Valentine's Day?"

I nod my head.

"Well idiot, that "girl" doesn't matter anymore. He's forgotten about her, she doesn't matter anymore to him. He doesn't look for her in the halls or talks about her. It's you, not her. He hangs out with you nonstop and has asked you twice."

Taking it all in realizing he's right.

And as I look up to him to tell him so I look to see him smiling like an idiot, "What the hell are you still doing here?"

…

Walking into the bakery, Mr. Mellark stands behind the counter wiping down the display case. He smiles at the sight of me dropping his work to come over to where the cash register is so he can talk to me. "Hey Katniss, how are you?"

"Good, how are you Mr. Mellark?"

"Pretty good, you just missed the rush. We have a family come and buy all our kaiser rolls, those two pickups for the red velvet cakes, five special orders, and the McGowan's stop by with the little ones."

I smile, "You gave them sugar cookies?"

He smiled too letting out a short laugh, "I can't help it no matter now angry their mother gets with me about it."

I shake my head, twisting my hands together. "Um, is Peeta here?"

"In the kitchen," he tells me, "Go on back."

"Thank you."

"Anytime Katniss."

So hopping over the counter I successfully land on my feet, pushing through the back door. And there on the other side of the door is Peeta. He stands looking over the table in the middle of the room covered in dough and flower. He takes dough from the bowl beside him and shapes it into a small ball, placing it on a tray before grabbing another piece of dough from the pile and repeating the process.

It's not until I'm standing across from him that he realizes I am in the room.

"Hey," he smiles.

"Hi," I say in a small tone, twisting my fingers together.

"What's up?"

_This it is Katniss, just tell him. You can do it_, I tell myself, _just tell him. Yes. Yes that'll you'll take him up on that sate._

I must no say anything because I hear Peeta ask worriedly, "Katniss?"

And not knowing what I am doing I spit out, "Yes."

"I asked what's up."

"Yes."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "Yes?"

I nod my head.

"Yes to…" he thinks, "um, what exactly?"

I open my mouth, but it quickly closes. _God, stop fucking around_, my mind scolding me, _just tell him._

"Um ah, the date- yes to- when you asked- I will- I'll try- therefore a yes- that is- if your still, asking-"

I ramble on for what seems like hours and Peeta just stands there across from me taking it in. I don't know when, but at one point I assume he gets what I am saying. His eyes light up and his lips turn into a grin.

"Katniss," he says cutting me off, "Will you go on a date with me?"

"Eh, yes," I say nodding my head.

He smiles, "Friday night okay?"

"Yeah," I say, as I feel the corners of my lips curve up, "Friday's perfect."

And as he nods, I do too and we look like some stupidly in lo- emotional teenagers. Nevertheless soon enough, we return to normal stance.

It's when Peeta ask if I have any preference for the date that I feel complied to tell him, "Peeta, I really don't do dating."

His face drops. "Oh, I- I understand, yeah. I mean I get you being nervous- cancel, delay. We can do it another time or not or whatever- That's okay."

"No," I say realizing what he's saying, saying that it's okay for me to me to back our now, to quit while I'm head. "No, I don't not want to go on a date with you, it's just- it's just I've never dated. Dating just was never in the picture with me."

"It's not that hard."

I raise my eyebrows at me saying otherwise.

"No really," he reassures me, "I promise."

I cautiously nod my head.

"You're not walking to your death here Katniss; you're going to get something to eat or going to the movies with me. I promise it won't be that bad."

"It's not you, Peeta, I'm worried about. It's more of me ruining it."

"Katniss you could never disappoint me or whatever think you are going to do. This date is all I could ask for."

"Peeta-"

He shakes his head. "You have no idea the affect you have on people Katniss."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter XXIV

…

_Fuck my life. Fuck me._

I don't think this is how people are supposed to feel when going on a date. But god…

_This is awful. _

I wasn't even on the date yet and this was already going horribly.

Why had I let Finn to get to me? Why did I let myself do this? Why did I let Finn and Annie instruct me what to wear and do and act and shit? This was my date, mine. And how was one supposed to look sexy and cute? What did that mean?

Letting out a groan, I mutter a "fuck it" under my breath before grabbing the clothes off of my bed and making my way to the bathroom.

I get a fast shower making sure I untangle my air while washing it. Then when I'm done, I look at the clock to see I have thirty minutes before Peeta was supposed to come pick me up. So quickly I pull on my pair of dark legging along with my boots and one size too big maroon sweater. I braid my hair and put on makeup as Annie had informed me. And as I shut the lights off in my bathroom I hear a knocking at the front door.

Peeta.

Looking to the lock on my desk there was three minutes till eight. Peeta, early as always.

So shutting off the lights, I snatch my messenger bag into hand along with my hat and scarf off of my desk and make my way down the stairs.

And when I open the door, Peeta stands there with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. "You look… wow, beautiful, I mean- nice," he says shyly.

"You look good too," I say taking in his skater shoes hidden under his dark jeans along with his solid earthly brown-green army jacket and knit hat. He looked good. Yet as I continue to stare at him, my brain mentally slaps me across the face, "And um, ah if Annie ask I wore heels. Okay?"

He laughs nodding his head, "How high are they?"

"Five inches."

He shakes his head, "Mh hmm, you looked fantastic in those… what kind of heels?"

"Black open toe pumps-heels- death-shoe-things."

He laughs, "Open toe? Death-shoe-things? It's barely fifty degrees outside, what is Annie thinking?"

I shrug my shoulders and he lets out another short laugh, shaking his head.

"Beauty is pain, I suppose."

"You don't need heels to make you beautiful, you don't need any of that shit," he openly says, "You are naturally beautiful Katniss, so beautiful."

I look to him shocked and embarrassed and amazed. _Wow._ Peeta thought I was beautiful, _me_. He thought I was beautiful, truly beautiful.

Cheeks now flushed I feel like one of those stupid, love-struck teenagers. And then there's that spark, that dam spark of bliss and life and excitement that Peeta ignites within me that I have come to loath yet love deeply. This was Peeta… this was his effect on me.

So then in a bare whisper I say completely embarrassed, "Thanks."

"It's the truth," he smiles as he offers me his hand, asking, "You ready?"

"Nothing too elaborate or big or whatever?" I ask cautiously.

"Simple." He states.

"For you or me?"

He cocks his head, biting his lower lip. "Somewhere in between?"

My lips quirk up into a smile at his remark. It was very Peeta, honest and true. Then as I pull on my hat and loop my scarf around my neck I strap my bag over my shoulder. And when ready, I take his hand and he gives me a smile.

"It's not going to be that bad, I promise."

"Nothing outrageous?"

"Nothing too ostentatious," he confirms, "It's as simple as I would go."

I look at him, taking him in. His cheeks are flushed a bright red. His hand runs along the back of his neck or taps at his pant leg nervously every not and then. His lips are formed in a shaky smile. His posture is tall and confidant, but I can tell that somewhere inside he's not that. His hair is messy, but good. His clothing is faltering and well suited to him, it's just… just good-looking. His… he's Peeta Mellark. He's the boy I've come to know and lo- like, especially enough to risk going on a date with him and the consequences that may follow.

I smile. "Okay."

"Okay," he states returning the smile.

…

"This is pretty simple for you," I say surprised as we sit at one of the high tables at Angelo's.

He shrugged his shoulders, his cheeks flushing red. "Finn may have redevised my original plans."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Okay, it was more than just some suggested notes; it was more of a… demolition and reconstruction."

I smile, "Scale it."

He runs his along his neck thinking about it. "On a scale of a Haymitch Abernathy to the Royal Family I'd say it was… a little worse than an Effie Trinket."

"_Wow_."

"Yeah," he says... embarrassed.

"It had to be really elaborate," I say in all seriousness, kind of, "I mean an Effie Trinket is pretty closer up there with the Royal Family."

"Yeah," he said again still red faced.

"Well…" I say shyly, "Thanks."

His face goes from pure embarrassment to complete confusion and as he opens his mouth to say something our orders comes. So quickly shutting his mouth the server sets our slices and drinks in front of us before telling us to wave him over if we need anything.

Then the moment the guy walks away I speak before Peeta can even consider opening his mouth to talk. "Thanks for being Peeta," I say quickly, ushering the words out of my mouth, "For going beyond and above and then killing it, changing it all for me. Just ah- that's just, just thanks."

At this he is neither embarrassed nor confused, but happily smiling. "My pleasure."

We stare at one another till we embarrassed and turn to look to our food to hide our scarlet flushes cheeks. And as we eat I ask, "How does this go?"

"Thessu," he says swallowing the piece of pizza he had just taken a bite from.

"The date, dating," I tell him, "Remember, I've never been on one of these things before. Newbie."

"Right," he says, "Sorry, okay so we…"

…

"A walk," I ask not completely surprised.

"What," he asks laughing.

I just shake my head, cheeks flushing.

"What?" He laughs.

"It's- it's very classical, you know," I try to explain, "It's like its straight out of one of those old fashion, black and white romance movies… It's very you."

He smiles. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," I say. Then leaning into him, he automatically slips his arm around me and we fit together.

So as we walk down the sidewalk, we remain silent expect for the slight breeze that blows through the buildings and trees. Peeta's fingertips tap against my ribs, keeping a constant rhyme. And as his tapping syncs into my mind, I begin to hum along.

We continue to walk like this for a few minutes before Peeta breaks the silence.

"You know you have a beautiful voice?" The question is rhetorical even though I believe my voice is awful, if I was cover is mud, bloody and battered with vocal chords removed, Peeta would still classify me as beautiful. "I remember the first time I heard you sing- it was when you sang the… Valley Song. You had your braid in two and you wore that plaid red dress with white shoes." He smiles, "I remember seeing you that morning before the bell. You were with your dad. He was holding Prim, who was probably just a few months old… Then Mrs. Hawthorne came over and you went to Gale's side. I asked my father about you and he just smiled and told me about how your father's voice could make the birds silence. And even before I heard your voice, knew your name, I knew-"

He cuts himself off, shaking his head. "I just knew."

And I stood there shocked, scared, surprised, elated, astonished, angry, upset, bewildered... I felt every emotion and was internally reacting.

What? He remembered that from eleven, twelve years ago? He knew what I wore, how I dressed? He knew… He knew about my father? His father told him about my father's voice? He… How could remember Prim, Mrs. Hawthorne? What was he- What?

So baffled and emotionally upset yet pleased I make out, "You have quite the memory Mellark."

He smiled, "The one braid has grown on me since the switch in the… fourth grade."

"You're awful," I tell him jokingly as I laugh and push him in the side.

He laughs too.

It takes a moment, but when our laughter dies, we cross the street ad begin to walk back in the direction we came. We fall back into one another and fit perfectly.

"Is this what you do with all the girls?" I ask.

"This?"

"The escort, the dinner, the walk, the talk… this entire sha-bang."

He laughs, "I was going to go to the whole horse drawn carriage with rose petals and corny over-dramatic yet blissful violin music playing in the background while a man name Alfred took us through town, but Finn said that'd be a bit much."

I laugh, "Just a bit."

"I had to go all out," he shrugs his shoulders.

"Well thanks," I say in all honesty, "Thanks for killing it a bit for me, for stepping from over-dramatic movie romance to normal of the shorts."

"Anything for you."

We fall back into our silence. We walk past all the shops and buildings we had passed before, making our way back to town, to wherever Peeta had parked his car. And as we near the pizzeria where I assume Peeta leads me to where his jeep is parked on the side of the building, we get in. He ignites the engines and waits for the heat to turn on. And he intertwines my hand in his. He gives me a joyful smile and a soft reassuring, helpful squeeze of the hand. "And there was never any other girls Katniss."

…

Peeta shifts the car into park and kills the engine. He then quickly jumps out of there drivers side and around to the passenger side to open the door for me before I can even process that we had made it back to my house. So opening the door for me, I step out and he shuts the door behind me. Then taking my hand in his again, we walk through the snow that remains to my front step.

Then standing there, I feel my cheeks flush and stomach curl.

"So," he drags out, asking nervously, "Not too bad?"

"Not too bad," I smile. "But, I'm kind of disappointed there were no fireworks."

"I'll make note of that for next time."

"Next time," I raise my eyebrows. "Getting a little ahead of yourself there?"

"Are you denying me of a second date," he challenges.

"Are you asking?" I retort.

He smirks. Looping his hand around my waist and pulling me close so my hips are squared with him. He pulls me close, but only so close that I can feel his breath on mine without a sense of proximity in the air.

"I am." He smirks.

Then with that my stomach flips again and skin flush scarlet. My heart skips, flutters and there's that spark. I feel stupid and happy and confused and excited. I'm enjoying it while at the same time loathing it. It all seems to be completely unrealistic, out of a book, a movie, but I know better to be sure that it's all real.

I smile back at him. "Well do I have to ask or are you going to kiss me?"

"I thought you never been on one of these "date things" before."

"Shut up," I laugh.

And then like that be kisses me.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter XXV

…

"So I heard that Peeta Mellark took you on a date." Emil tells me as I step out of kitchen after helping Sae unpack the newest food shipment.

My jaw drops. _How the hell- how the hell did he know that? I went on my third date with Peeta three-four days ago. _My mind befuddled I close my mouth only to open it again in an attempt to form a sentence yet nothing comes out as I am cut off.

"He did!" Annie calls from the booth closest to the counter where she and Finn sit. "He took her of three dates! _Three_ dates!"

I shoot a glare her way causing Finn to smile along with Annie who tries to cover it with her hand, but isn't fast enough. Then I turn back to Emil and ask, "Did they tell you that while I was in the back?"

He shakes his head.

"Peeta?"

He shakes his head again.

"Who?" I ask unable to think of anyone else.

He doesn't say anything, but gives me a look that I can't quite describe but for sure I know I don't like it.

"Who?" I ask him again, nearly pleading.

"Haymitch."

"_Haymitch_ knows?"

Emil nods taking a bite of a French fries, "Yes. He told me the other day when he stopped by the presbytery on his way back to the bakery."

"Peeta told him?"

He shook his head.

"Mr. Mellark?"

He shook his head again.

"Who?"

He smiled, pointing over to where Finn and Annie sat.

"_Finn_," I practically shout, "What is wrong with you? Stop talking to Haymitch about my personal life. That, this stuff are the things that I am supposed to tell Haymitch. I am his guardie-or-whatever-the-hell-the-title-is. It's my responsibility to- ahhh. I swear to god, you two are like a couple of teenage girls."

Bewildered, he looks to me lost. His hands automatically shoot up in surrender as his head begins to shake no. "What- I didn't- Nooo?"

"Finn, come on. I mean it's one thing to tell him about how I eat pickles and peanut butter but… but why the hell did you have tell Haymitch about my date with Peeta," I ask him, "You know he won't leave me alone about it now, he'll probably find a way to hold it against me especially cause he had to find out from someone who wasn't me."

"I haven't seen Haymitch in weeks," he tells me in protest, still holding his hands up in surrender.

And then it hits me. "_Annie!_!"

"I didn't know. I swea- I promise I thought you would have told him about it, I thought it was okay," she says in defense, "I mean I had asked Mr. Mellark about what Peeta had told him about the date and he told me Peeta said it was fun and had a good time. And then Haymitch walked into the bakery and I supposed caught your name in the conversation so he asked me why we were talking about you and then it- I didn't know- you went on three dates- I assumed- he said-"

She trails on, rambling apologies ad indecisive sentences, and all I can do is shake my head.

"Okay, okay, Annie," I tell her, "It's okay."

She nods her head, falling silent. _Shit, fuck, crap_. Annie felt bad. _God, fuck me_. Internally groaning, Finn wraps his arm around her shoulder and I give her a thin smile doing my best to reassure her.

"_Crappp_." I mumble, running my hands over my face. _Why me?_

"Katniss, it's not that bad," Emil reassures me. "Haymitch, I'm sure, it's fine with it. He respects Peeta from hat I understand. You know that's true too, he made the kid captain of the football team, which has to mean something."

"But still Emil-"

"Oh shut it," I hear Sae call from the back, "You and that boy have been practically stuck like glue with one another for months now."

Emil nods his head, doing his best to hide a smile that I know it's fighting the corners of his lips, and in the corner of my eye I can see Finn smiling beside Annie who is now no longer silent but fighting back laughter.

"Shittt me."

Emil gives me a look, a warning that nonetheless probably concerned my languages.

Letting out a groan I shake my head, turning to the kitchen door. "Mess with my life, I don't care. Ahh. I'm going to do inventory."

…

Walking away from the front step of the Hawthorne resident back to where my motorcycle is parked in the drive when my phone goes off. And when I pull my phone from my back pocket, I see Peeta's name flashing across the screen and immediately I press the answer tab.

"Hi."

"Hey," he says rather quickly, "I'm sorry, really sorry. I swear, I didn't mean-"

He trails on making little to no sense at all. Apologizing and forming half sentences and speaking ten times too fast for me to understand.

"Peeta, Peeta," I cut him off as I plug my headphones into my phone and get onto my motorcycle. "Slow down."

I waited listening to him take a breath or two before continuing. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry," he sates, "I'm sorry for whatever I did to piss of Haymitch or Emil or whatever the heck I did. I didn't mean to cause issues. I didn't mean to get you upset or Haymitch mad. I didn't mean to – it just happened- I didn't know- or whatever-"

"Peeta," I say again cutting him off. "I still have no clue what you're talking about."

He remains silent for a few moments collecting his thoughts I assume probably running his hand along the hair on the back of his neck. And in that time of silence between us, I reeve the engine of the cycle to life and make my way down the street.

It's after a few blocks that Peeta speaks again. "I'm sorry that I basically somehow let Haymitch know I took you on a date before you could tell him."

"Oh," I say making a right down Main Street, "Peeta that wasn't even your fault; that was Annie being a big mouth like Finn taught her t-"

He cuts me off, "Did you just ride by the bakery?"

"Um," I drag out, "No?"

"Are you talking and driving?"

"Peeta."

"Katniss."

"Peet-"

"Katniss, that's dangerous. You could get yourself killed."

I cringe. "I _know_ Peeta."

And then it hits him, what he had just said, what his words hinted at, what he just lectured me on. "Katniss I- oh god, I didn't-"

But this time it's me who cuts him off. "I know Peeta, I know. It's me. You don't have to apologize. That's just- it's something with- don't worry about it. You didn't mean it, I know- it's just me. I'm um- I'm on my way to Haymitch's. Movie tomorrow night?"

"Yeah."

"I'll cya."

"Bye Katniss."

…

Haymitch is sitting on the couch watching one of those popular sports channel when I make it into the house. "Finally made it over sweetheart, it only took you," he pauses counting his fingers, "eleven days."

"Mh hmm," I said sitting down pretzel style beside him, "Sorry, been busy."

"I've heard," he smiles. "So how was the date?"

"Good."

"Just good?" He asks raising his eyebrows at me.

"It was good," I pause, "It was really good. "

He snorts shaking his head, turning his attention away from the television and over to me. "You're either not that great of an actress or you're just stupid. Everyone knows that boy is crazy about you so I know better than to believe you that the date was "really good.""

"Haymitch," I plead.

"Oh come on sweetheart," he says, "Share."

"Ahhh," I groan, "Fine. But don't expect much."

He snorts, "I would never dare."

I shake my head, compressing a laugh. "On the first date he took me to Angelo's and then we went for a walk down Main Street."

"And when he dropped you off at home?"

"You know I could have driven there myself, he may not have taken me home?"

He snorts repeating, "And when he dropped you off at home?"

"Just a kiss goodnight."

He nodded, "Respectable… Second and third date."

"Second, he took me to the school play."

Haymitch raised his eyes at me knowing it didn't sound like me.

"He brought candy and cookies and we sat in the back row, making side comments the entire time." I smile, "It was surprisingly a really good time."

He shook his head smiling.

"And for the third we went bowling with Annie and Finn… which I assume was the date you heard about."

He smiled, "Well I'm happy for you sweetheart, Mellark's a good kid."

I nod my head.

"Ohhh," he groans, "What is it?"

"What is what?" I ask.

"Like I said before you're not that great of an actress and as I know your just as crazy about that boy as he is for you even though you won't admit it to yourself; when I approve of the kid and you don't even give me a smile and one worded "Thanks" I know something is up."

I look down at my hands that rest in my lap. "It's not even something really, it's just… He said something today about the chances of automobile accidents and how they're dangerous and how-"

I trail on till I feel Haymitch hand on my knee giving it a squeeze. "It's okay sweetheart, it's just something you deal with and the boy will get used to."

I shrug my shoulder. "Yeah, I guess."

"It is," he assures me, "and he will."

"Okay," I nod.

"Okay," Haymitch repeating nodding his head as well. "Football?"

"Food?"

"Chinese?"

"Sure."

And like that Haymitch and I from talking about my personal life and a shared darkness in our past to agreeing on watching football and ordering Chinese.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter XXVI

…

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Peeta grunts, shutting his locker door.

"I'm sorry."

He looks to me puzzled, adjusting the strap of his backpack to fit perfectly over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I repeat again, "…for turning into a pompous ass yesterday when you mentioned- when you were concerned about my well-being."

"Katniss-"

"Peeta," I plead with him, doing my best to keep it together, "Let me get this out."

He solemnly nods okay. "Okay."

I lean against my locker and slide down till I sat down on the floor against my locker door and Peeta does the same. I place bag to my right and then twist my hands together in lap.

"My dad died three days go, it was the anniversary... I was eleven and Prim was five. He was coming home from the construction site late when some teenager who on the phone rammed into the car. He died from internal bleeding… It wasn't painless. Mom shut down and it was basically just Prim and I. Haymitch stepped in… I guess that's what you would call it; he gave us money every month to stay afloat, "checked in" once in a blue moon... I bought groceries and clothes and forged mom's signature on bill and school forms. I took over, I grew up like that, I took care of Prim."

I take a deep breath, squeezing my hands in one another.

"It took me a little over two years to get comfortable to be in a car again. It took my mother four years to leave a three mile radius around the house. Prim never remembered my, our father… Three days ago was the six year anniversary of his death."

I take another breath.

"Gale's father died three weeks later at the construction site when a beam went down. My neighbor died of old age the year that followed. Three years ago Sae's husband died of a heart attack. A man got shot in a hunting accident in the valley two springs ago. A house fire took a family after that blizzard last winter… And then- and then Prim got cancer and my mother left. I learned that cars aren't the only things that kill over the years. I learned that death came in all shapes and sizes. And I decided I wasn't going to worry about it…"

I glance up him and he looks down at me into my glossy eyes.

"I'm not afraid to die Peeta, its bound to happen. It happened to my dad and Gale's and Prim and Sae's husband and… everyone. I'm going to keep living the way I always have. And I'm sorry if you don't agree, but- but I'm going to keep doing… I will die one day, Peeta and I'm okay with that."

I fall silent and Peeta doesn't speak up. We stay like that in the vacant hall for minutes on end. It's not till fifteen, twenty minutes pass that Peeta stand up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before reaching his hand out to me.

So reaching out for his hand, he takes mine and his and pulls me off the ground. I pick my messenger bag off the floor and strap it over my shoulder. Then both of us standing there ready to leave, Peeta wraps his arm around my shoulders and we begin to walk.

"Okay."

"Okay?" I ask surprised.

"Yeah," he smiles, "I get what you're saying and yeah, okay. Everything's okay."

…

I sat on the island in the Mellark kitchen. Mr. Mellark shuffled around the room, making trays of food and checking the oven every few minutes. And Peeta had gone to get a few movies moments ago.

As Mr. Mellark opens the oven for the fifth time to check on the mini pizzas he was making I ask, "Can I do something?"

He shuts the stove, looking up at me. "You're stubborn."

I smile. "I know." I had asked him numerous times since I had gotten to the house if there was anything for me to do. "Can I do something?"

He laughs, "Okay, okay. Can you pour that bag of cheese puffs into a bowl and then take them into the living room?"

I nod my head, hopping off the counter I get to work.

Cheese puffs. Check. Cookies. Check. Grapes. Check. Pizzas. Check. Soda. Check… And then in no time everything and anything that had been cooked or possibly needed from the kitchen was seated out on the coffee table in the living from.

Mr. Mellark gave me a smile. "Thanks for the help."

I nodded my head, giving him a small smile in response; and then we fell silent.

Its only after a few minutes go by that Mr. Mellark speaks. "I'm sorry about your father."

I look to him and stare for a short moment before nodding my head, remaining silent. We remain silent for minutes on end again before this time, I speak up.

"Did you know about that?"

He nods his head adding, "And Peeta mentioned it earlier."

And for some reason what he says triggers something in the back of my head causing me to ask, "Did Peeta really ask you about me when we were little?"

"First day of… kindergarten," he smiled, "I think that was the first time." He pauses, leaning back against the sink, across from me. "Yeah, the first day of kindergarten, that was the first time I had talked to your father in years."

I smile, "So you knew my father?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, no. I knew of him, who he was. We were in the same grade during school, but I suppose we weren't… we didn't hang out in the same crowd." He paused looking to me. "I got to know him though a little more so when I got older and took over the bakery… He would stop by on the way home from his job at the construction company sometimes to buy you and your sister cookies. We would talk about you kids or whatever was going on in town or sometimes about something from out personal lives… He was a great man Katniss."

He pauses again, but this time when he opens his mouth to talk, the back door in the kitchen creeks open as Peeta walks into the room. Mr. Mellark makes out half a word which makes little to no sense at all. I remain silent. And Peeta opens his mouth only to quickly shut it as he looks at us completely… puzzled.

"Hey." He says slowly.

"Hi," I smile.

"Did I miss out on something?"

I smile, "You were a cute kid."

"Dad," he groans getting Mr. Mellark to let out a smile.

"I didn't show her any of your butt pictures."

"_What_," I practically scream, "There's _butt_ pictures!?"

"Dad," he says in a stern voice.

Mr. Mellark puts his hands up in surrender. "I'm going to the living room."

I let out a laugh and Mr. Mellark smiles, shaking his head as he walks into the other room. Peeta shuts the door behind him before walking towards me.

"You're evil sometimes," he tells me, looping his arm around me.

"I know."

"Is there anything else I show know," he asks.

"I'm stubborn by your father."

"That's not anything knew," he laughs, teasing me.

…

"Peeta," I hear a voice say somewhere through the darkness, "I'm going up. No- no… no anything."

The couch shifts and I hear s footsteps fleeting only to stop when another voice speaks. "Dad." Its familiar, smooth, heartwarming. Its Peeta's voice. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I make out the other, Mr. Mellark's voice respond.

"Do you think Mr. Everdeen would have approved of me?"

There's a silence that follows Peeta's question. Peeta holds his breath. I can't hear Mr. Mellark say a word or even move. And I stay curled up on Peeta's lap.

The silence drags on and it scares me. All I want to do is tell Peeta yes, yes that I believe my father would approve of him and even if he didn't I wouldn't care. But I can't. I can't seem to get my body to surface the darkness it's trapped under. Yet more time passes, but when I feel Peeta move I hear him say, "Thanks dad."

So with that I assume Mr. Mellark had given Peeta some sort of response through a nod of the head or sign or something.

And Mr. Mellark responds, "No problem son. 'Night."

With that I listen as Mr. Mellark's footsteps leave the room. Then with Mr. Mellark gone, I feel Peeta lean over and then hear the click of a few buttons. The background noise ceases and Peeta leans back. He loops one arm under my knees and the other around my back and stands up. I curl into his chest and he begins to move through the house. We leave the room and go upstairs and down a hall. The next thing I know, he is lying me down on something soft as he places my head on a pillow and a blanket on my lower half. Peeta then lies down beside me, wrapping his arms around me as I curl into him.

We stay like that for a while. I drift off again deeper into the darkness and I assume Peeta does to. Yet before I am full submerged into the dark depths I swear I hear Peeta say the L-word again.

_Love. _

What was going on?

...

Hey... So I haven't been updating a lot between work and whatnot and I'm sorry. I'm going to try to update at least once every two weeks... I'm sorry for not updating as often though. Thank you for reading!


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